


Getting By, Just Barely

by saluhmander



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Athlete AU, Slow Burn, moonsun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2020-11-08 18:03:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 51
Words: 297,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20839733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saluhmander/pseuds/saluhmander
Summary: Twenty-three year old Kim Yongsun came into graduate school at Seoul National University thinking it would be more of what her life had always been about: school and work. Star university-athlete, and notorious smooth-talker, Moon Byulyi started her school year prepared to focus on what's always mattered most: basketball. Neither was ready for their paths to cross.The slow burn no one asked for that chronicles the trials and tribulations of strangers turned best friends turned . . . whatever.Major shout-outto the endlessly talented Todd for creating some art for this story!Check out:"Cuddles (1)"||"Cuddles (2)"||"Snapchat Draws"||"Chapter 51 Bandaid"For ways/links to support them, check out theirTwitter account.*9/10/2020: A new chapter is up.





	1. I Did?

_Dear Kim Yong Sun:_

_Congratulations on your acceptance into the Educational Counseling Master of Science (MS) Program at Seoul National University’s College of Education. _

Disbelief. Shock.

What she wanted to do was scream and cry. What she did was sit at her desk, both elbows propped up, hands covering her mouth, remaining as silent as possible. The office was empty, as expected of a Friday afternoon with half an hour until five p.m. Two of her three officemates had already left for the weekend and the third, her supervisor, was probably upstairs socializing with the Communications department. Yongsun sat at her desk, alone and at a loss for words.

To say that the past year had been a trying one would be an understatement. After graduating last spring, Yongsun refused to move back to her hometown. She loved her family—everything that she did was to ease their burden and make them proud—but they did not understand her and her ambitions at all. The first in the family to go to college, Yongsun often viewed this accomplishment as an inconvenience. Everyone viewed her as “gifted,” the one with all the answers. She was capable of excelling in the classroom, yes, but there were many opportunities that she missed out on because no one around her alerted her to their existence. They themselves were unaware. Yongsun struggled through the application process for undergraduate programs and barely met financial aid deadlines; the extensive list of scholarships and grants made for students like her: those coming from working class families, those with the passion and demonstrated talent for writing, first-generation college students, went unbeknownst to her. Instead of refund checks, socializing, and enjoying free time, she graduated having worked three jobs each semester. The list of ways in which being the first in the family set her back was endless. Still, she graduated and her parents were none the wiser about her struggles; thanks to her hard work, they never had to pay a cent for her education and the additional expenses that came along with it. Her room was never lavishly decorated, and she had to be crafty about acquiring the obscenely expensive textbooks and course codes that each class required, but she graduated. That in itself was an accomplishment.

The months leading to graduation, Yongsun’s classmates uploaded post upon post on social media announcing their next steps: graduate and medical schools; highly coveted and high-paying consulting jobs; service work overseas; engagements. There she was, once again, feeling less than. Graduating from one of the country’s most elite institutions, yet she felt like a bum. Conversations with her parents, unbeknownst to them, helped only to confirm that feeling.

_“What kind of jobs can you get with a degree in history?” she remembers her mother asking her one day, having called unexpectedly._

_“Lots of jobs,” Yongsun responded, expertly navigating through the overpopulated campus paths full of students that had recently been set free from their afternoon classes. With the dining hall a few feet away, she was ready to say whatever it took to get off the call as soon as possible._

_“Can you make money with those ‘lots of jobs’?”_

_“You can get any type of job with any type of degree, mother.”_

_“Okay, okay! Don’t bite me. I just want to make sure that you’re in a stable situation once you graduate.”_

_“Mmhmm. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”_

_“Okay. Bye. Be safe.”_

_“Thanks. I’ll try.”_

Yongsun chuckled remembering that day. Her mom did not deserve the frosty responses. In her defense, though, she had been hungry and her post-graduation plans were unclear. There was no way she would ever admit the latter to her mother; it would only make Yongsun feel like more of a disappointment.

While she had flirted with the idea for some time, weeks of being underwhelmed by the available employment options resulted in Yongsun officially deciding that she needed to go to graduate school. With applications for the fall semester already closed, she would have to apply for the following year, giving her at least eight months to research programs, take entrance exams, and find a few of her old professors to write letters of recommendation. If Yongsun went home, she would never reach grad school, but instead, be sucked back into the petty family wars that, thanks to constant calls and texts, she was very well updated on.

Her mother yelled at her for the decision, rightfully so. She had no job, nowhere to live, no plan, but her decision was final. She’d make it work, and make it work she did. A rare stroke of luck, the Athletics department she had been working in since her first year offered to take her on as a Marketing Intern. The pay was abysmal, but it was something.

“You still here?”

“Oh my goodness! You scared me,” she exclaimed, her hand clutching at her chest.

“Sorry! I thought you heard me come in.” Looking up from her computer, she was met with the warmest smile and kindest eyes. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she enjoyed his presence, Yongsun rolled her eyes and went back to focusing on her blank desktop screen.

“How is everyone in Communications?”

“You’re not even doing anything on your computer. I can see the reflection in the box office window behind you,” he jested. That earned him a second eye roll. “Everyone up there is fine. Why are you still here anyway? It’s 5 o’clock on a Friday, go enjoy your weekend.” Their office had been slow for months now. It was July. Classes were over, most students were gone, there were no sporting events to tend to or plan for.

“I got distracted. Heard back from the grad school program.”

“Seriously? That took forever. You submitted your application two months ago! What did they say?” It was touching how supportive her supervisor had been throughout the application process. Crippled by anxiety and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer nature of how much had to be accomplished in a short amount of time, Yongsun had cut things close with the deadlines for graduate school programs. Again, blessed by luck, her top choice had rolling admissions, making things slightly less stressful for her. Eric cheered her on at each step. She submitted her application in May and did not hear anything back until June when the Program Director contacted her for an interview. Upon learning of this, Eric rearranged his schedule, making sure he would be out of his office so that Yongsun could use it for her phone interview.

Truthfully, he had taken care of her ever since he was hired three years ago. As a college junior, Yongsun had been a student worker in the Athletics department for two years already. Eric had his responsibilities as Marketing Manager, many of which Yongsun could not help him with. However, in terms of getting acclimated to the department and, for him, a new city, Eric would readily admit that she was a tremendous help. What Yongsun saw as small things, like recommending the best places for lunch specials, offering to take care of music for events, and helping him find buildings and offices on campus, meant a lot to Eric. He was touched. As such, he did what he could for her. He gave her the best shifts; when she was sick, he would send her home but still credit her for having worked those hours so that she did not miss out on any pay. During midterms and finals, he looked the other way while she studied for classes during her work hours. Yongsun was none the wiser about the things Eric did behind the scenes to help her out, including campaigning for the higher ups to create the Marketing Intern position. He even put her in contact with a friend of his that worked in real estate to help with her post-graduation housing struggles. His closest colleagues often teased him about his favoritism for Yongsun and he endured it all because she was an incredibly hard worker. From conversations with her while she was a student, he gathered that she worked multiple jobs while still managing to maintain high marks in her studies. She did not have much help, but still never complained about her hardships or shirked her responsibilities as an employee. The least he could do was help where he could.

“I got in,” she responded, a bashful smile growing on her face.

“Shut up!”

“Okay.”

“No! Don’t!”

“Stop yelling,” Yongsun chuckled.

“I can’t! I’m so excited for you! You worked hard for this,” Eric finished off sincerely.

“I did?”

“Yes, you did, and I don’t want to hear any arguments from you. I’m your supervisor. Whatever I say goes.” Yongsun’s subsequent giggle belied the annoyance she attempted to convey by rolling her eyes. “I’ll take you out for a meal as a congratulations gift,” Eric continued.

“Oh no, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to. You’re a hard worker, Yongsun. Accept an act of kindness every now and then.” His gentle gaze was too much for her in that moment. She had yet to fully process everything she had been through up until this moment. Eric’s comment was too much for her right now. Breaking the gaze, she conceded, “Okay. Thank you.”

“Next week is your last week anyway, so I was already planning on taking you out for a meal to celebrate the three years we’ve worked together. Now, though, I have to pick somewhere nicer than McDonald’s.”

“You’re so annoying!” she exclaimed, throwing her seat cushion at him.


	2. Is It Too Late to Strip?

It was July.

Classes started in August.

Yongsun was stressed.

It seemed that no matter what she did, stress would follow. It clung to her like fog on an excessively humid summer afternoon. She excelled in high school, but maintaining her grades while participating in extracurricular activities was stressful. Navigating the college application process with little to no support from her family was stressful. Everything that came with being in college—the classes, working several jobs, trying to have a social life—was stressful. Through it all, she tried to keep a smile on her face, tried to not burden others with her problems. She kept the stress to herself, and now she felt like she was going to combust.

“It’s fine, Yongsun. You can do this. This is what you wanted. It will all work out.” Talking to herself never actually worked. She would speak her words of affirmation, take a deep breath, feel calm for a moment, open her eyes, and get slapped in the face with the fact that none of her problems had vanished.

It was July. Classes started in August.

As the thoughts she aimed to keep at bay swarmed once again, Yongsun lifted herself off her bed. A deep sigh left her lips as she slid her bare feet into her fluffy bunny house slippers. Walking across the mahogany wood floors, she plopped herself into the black, plastic chair at her desk. “Okay,” she started, “let’s sort this out then we can eat. Sound like a plan? Its’s a plan. Ugh, I’m so strange sometimes.”

Reaching to her lower right, Yongsun pulled out her black, leather-clad journal from her bookbag. Combing through its tattered pages, she found an empty page, grabbed a black erasable pen from her pen holder, and got to work. In perfect cursive, she began writing:

_Things to do for Grad School_

  * _Pay enrollment deposit: __$100_
  * _Sign and email or fax letter of admission_
  * _Pick classes_
  * _FIND SOMEWHERE TO F*CKING LIVE_
  * _Loans?_
  * _Research work-study options_

This was depressing. Yongsun was stressed.

This was also what she wanted. She wanted to go to grad school, and here she was, going to grad school. It had been a week since she received her letter of acceptance, and she had yet to have a moment to fully enjoy it. There was just so much to do.

As she opened her laptop and pressed the power button, a haggard sigh escaped her chapped lips. The computer’s fan whirred to life, the sound of the overworked machine filling her silent bedroom. Two whacks attempted to get the machine to quiet down. It didn’t work. It never did. Yet another sigh escaped Yongsun, this time from annoyance. Accepting that she had at least another seven minutes before her computer was up and ready to go, she moseyed over to her bed, grabbed her cell phone from next to her pillow, her chapstick from her nighttable, and walked back to the uncomfortable desk chair. Unlocking her phone, she plopped into the seat while scrolling through her Instagram account.

It was a joke how unused her profile was. Her focus this past year was balancing work while preparing for graduate school. Before that—for as long as she could remember, really—her focus was school. She needed to do well in school to get into a good college. Once she got into college, she needed to make sure she was able to stay there. As such, she didn’t go out much. When she made time to hang out with the few friends that she had on campus, she was too absorbed in enjoying her time with them to focus on taking pictures of herself or anything else. To that, anyone viewing her Instagram would respond, “We can tell.” Her page sat in stark contrast to the posts she was now scrolling through. Her old classmates posted everything and anything.

If she were being honest, another reason she didn’t post much was because nothing Instagram-worthy usually happened. Her timeline was full of European vacations and wild nights out. The most exciting thing that happened this past year for Yongsun was curating an unbelievably fluid playlist for one of the men’s basketball games she had to work. A parent even came up to her afterwards and praised her for the wonderful selection of songs she had chosen throughout the game. That wasn’t really something one bragged about on social media. It wasn’t really something one bragged about in real life either.

“I need to do . . . things . . . more often. This is sad. You’re young, Yongsun. Act like it.”

What seemed like an eternity later, her computer had started up. Yongsun signed into her email. Hundreds of unread messages greeted her. She preferred this, though. The unread messages served as a reminder that she needed to read the emails and, indeed, every time she signed in, she was reminded. Whether she ever got around to actually reading the sales promotions she’d never use sent to her by boutiques she’d never purchase from was another story.

Finding and clicking on the emboldened name of the Program Director, red suddenly coated Yongsun’s cheeks. The email thread that the two had going was disgustingly long, but she had to make sure that all of her questions received answers. Reading his response to her most recent batch of questions, a bit of stress vanished from her shoulders. He had thankfully spelled out in great detail what the process would be for registering for classes. Most were required, so there was not much to worry about on that front. He would register her for the classes once she chose her one elective for the semester. Nice.

Quickly scanning her signed letter of admission, Yongsun attached the pdf file to the email containing her elective selection. She made sure to slip in yet another question, this one about work-study options. Once ‘send’ was hit, she felt another bit of the tension she’d been holding on to leave her body. Grabbing her cell phone from the desk, she kicked her bunny-slipper-clad feet onto her desk and dialed the number for the Bursar’s Office, immediately placing the call on speakerphone. As soon as the automated voice began talking, Yongsun interrupted, “Representative.”

“Would you like to speak to a representative?” the automated voice confirmed?

“Yes.”

“Okay, please hold. This call may be recorded for training and quality purposes.”

The smooth jazz hold music filled her room, replacing the whirring of her computer’s fan. As it did so, she updated her to-do list:

_Things to do for Grad School_

  * <s>Pay enrollment deposit</s>: _<s>$100</s>_
  * _<s>Sign and email or fax letter of admission</s>_
  * _<s>Pick classes</s>_
  * _FIND SOMEWHERE TO F*CKING LIVE_
  * _Loans?_
  * _Research work-study options_

It was July. Classes started in August. Yongsun was stressed and strongly reconsidering this graduate school sh*t.


	3. Your Girls

It was July.

Classes started in August.

Moonbyul was stressed. Eh, a little bit. Actually, not really.

“Byulyi! Pick up your sports bra! Are you serious right now? They make it so easy for us. We have clothes rings for a reason. You take your dirty clothes, put them on the clothes ring, and dump it all into the laundry cart. What is wrong with you? It literally couldn’t be any easier.” A year of dealing with her friend’s nagging had prepared Byul well for moments like this. She was normally able to block Heeyeon out, but now, as she navigated the ever tricky Rainbow Road, Moonbyul was **really** able to block Heeyeon out. Victory was within her grasp when the television screen suddenly turned black.

“You can’t be serious,” Moonbyul started. Finally coming back to reality, she searched the room for Heeyeon. She immediately found her teammate to her left, hovering over the back of the couch with the remote still in her hand. “Heeyeon, you seriously just did that? I was about to set a team record for fastest time trial! Wow. I can’t believe you. You’re sick.”

“Pick. Up. Your. Nasty ass. Sports bra.”

“You stopped my game for **that**?! I’m not the only one whose things are all over the place. And obviously, I was going to clean up after myself before leaving the locker room. I can’t believe this,” the blonde dramatized. Making a show of her frustration, she sighed exaggeratedly while sitting upright on the multipatterned couch. Standing up, she headed to the other end of the locker room where her lime green Nike sports bra had been unceremoniously dumped on the carpeted floor. Bending over to grab the damp article of clothing, she continued, “You should be thanking me! I could have left and gone home as soon as our pick-up game was finished. Instead, I waited for you so that we could eat together. It’s really true, no good deed goes unpunished.”

“Shut up, Byulyi,” the forward countered, “Other people have their things all over the place because they’re following after you! You’re supposed to be a leader. That goes for on and **off** the cour—” her scolding was cut short as her focus shifted instead to avoiding the soaking wet sports bra that was hurled at her from the other side of the room. “I swear, I am going to choke you.”

“Kinky!” Moonbyul was significantly shorter than her close friend, so although she made light of Heeyeon’s threat, she knew very well that it was possible . . . if not for the speed and agility that she was notorious for. Reading Heeyeon’s movements, Byulyi was able to relax and enjoy the overused go-to joke she had just uttered.

“Please. Spare me. That’s for your girls,” the ash brown haired girl quipped. She was over their previous conversation. Moonbyul in a joking mood was not a Moonbyul to waste one’s breath on. She threw Byul's sports bra back across the room before stuffing her Gatorade water bottle into her team-issued bookbag’s side pocket. Heeyeon scanned her locker and the space immediately surrounding it for cleanliness before turning and walking across the giant ‘SNU’ at the carpet’s center.

“Don’t do that. That’s not funny. I don’t have girls.”

“If you say it enough, maybe it’ll become true. Until then, stop lying to yourself. And hurry up, I’m hungry.” With that, Heeyeon left the room.

“This girl.” Moonbyul quickly strung her dirty clothes on her customized clothes ring and dumped her combined bra-jersey-shorts into the laundry basket before running to catch up to Heeyeon.

* * *

Air conditioning and free food. It was in moments like this, sitting in one of the school’s dining halls, that Moonbyul was beyond grateful that she was a college-athlete at a top institution like Seoul National University. To most, summer classes sounded miserable. To her, her teammates, and the other fall and winter sport athletes, it was heaven. Unlimited access to dining halls, computer labs, libraries, and training facilities while getting to experience all that Seoul has to offer? Earning enough credits to coast all of next year and graduate early if she wanted? For free? Yeah, she’d gladly take a few summer courses in exchange for all of that. A no-brainer.

A soft smile crept onto her face as she remembered letting her mom know a couple months ago that she would be taking summer classes.

_“Summer classes? Why? Did you fail? Byul-ah. The coach told me they have mandatory study hall and tutoring services for athletes. Did you not go to study hall? What will happen to your scholarship? I know you’re there for basketball, but you’re also there for school! Where will you live? We can’t afford to pay for housing. Goodness. I won’t tell your father yet. You know he’s all about you and basketball, but remember that the decision to put you in sports was so that you could get a good education. I was afraid you being so far from home would be a problem. You’re distracted, right? It’s too much, Byul-ah.”_

_Ignoring the fact that her mom was so quick to question her academic capability, it was cute how much her mother worried. Her ability to exaggerate Moonbyul’s distance from home was also very impressive; Seoul was only about 25 km away from Bucheon, and it’s not like Byul hadn’t been overseas for months on end before. At that moment, Moonbyul was in her dorm room in a sports bra and basketball shorts, with her Nike sock covered feet kicked up on her desk. She giggled at her mother’s outburst._

_“You find this funny? It’s not funny, Byul-ah. Your studies are important, too. We understand how important basketball is to you and we are proud of how far it has taken you, but when basketball is over, a degree will take you even further. You chose to study business; imagine how far you can go with a degree in business from that school. It’s a top school, Byulyi.” It was time to end her poor mother’s suffering._

_“Omma, I didn’t fail any of my classes. I was waiting to surprise you when I visit next week, but I can’t bear to hear you stress yourself like this. I got three As and one B+, and before you start, that B+ was one of the highest grades in that class. It’s a very difficult course, but a few of my teammates were in it, too, and helped me out a lot.”_

_“Three As! That B+, I’ll accept it this time; just push a little bit more next time. Still, I am proud of you, Byulyi. I tried to hide it when you decided to go to Seoul, but I was worried about how hard the change would be for you. If you didn’t fail then why are you taking summer classes?”_

_“If we take classes over the summer, they can provide housing for us, and if they do that, then we can also train. Everything is covered, so there are no additional costs. We also get to make a bit of money by working the sports camps they have here.”_

_“Sports camps. Is that the job they got for you when you first arrived in June last summer? I always wondered how they got you that job when you hadn’t even officially started classes there yet. Is that where you met those friends of yours?”_

_“The coaches take care of us. And no, I didn’t do sports camps last year. They got me a job with Residential Life so that I was able to move in early. But yes, that’s how I met Wheein and Hyejin.”_

_“I like Wheein.”_

_“Everyone likes Wheein, omma. You don’t like Hyejin?” Byul chuckled._

_“It’s not like that. They’re both very sweet girls.”_

_“They are. I gotta get going, but yeah, wanted to let you know I wouldn’t be home most of the summer. I know you might have been looking forward to me being home this whole summer. Finals are over now though, so I can come home next week, then I have to get back the following week for my summer class.”_

_“Ah, okay. We can’t wait to see you. When do you move into your apartment?”_

_“We can move in on August 1st. Some teammates will help me move.”_

_“You sound so grown up. We are so proud of you, Byul-ah.”_

_“Thank you, omma. I will see you next week, okay?”_

_“Okay. Love you.”_

_“Love you, too. Tell appa I love him.”_

_“Okay. He’ll be happy to hear that. Bye!”_

It took Byul some time to recover after that call. To say she was blessed was an understatement. Growing up, her father had watched professional basketball so religiously that at the age of three, she could identify the logos of each team. The details of the game escaped her, but she had figured out when to join her dad in yelling, “You suck!” at the television screen. 

At the age of four, she announced to her parents that she wanted to play basketball. It was, at first, an amusing way to keep their pint-sized ball of energy occupied. The amusement quickly wore off and morphed into something else altogether when Moonbyul stepped onto the court and dribbled circles around all the other kids, most of whom were boys. Literally. She only dribbled in circles around them while attempting to execute the fancy moves she had memorized from watching games with her father. According to her coaches, an understanding of the game could be taught, but the way she controlled the ball—at **that **age, nonetheless—could not. Moonbyul was a talent. A serious talent.

Her father took a chance. He had heard from some family members living abroad that women overseas were playing basketball and getting scholarships to college for it. Moonbyul was small but held a surprising amount of promise. Anyone watching Moon Sangcheol from the outside would think he was preparing to interview for a job. He was actually arranging his proposition and rehearsing the speech he intended to present to his wife. His plan for Byulyi would go no further if Park Kyungah did not agree to it. Looking back on it, Byul wondered how and why her mother approved her father’s idea. Not only did he opt to start her a year later in school in hopes that she would grow—her birthday was late, so they’d have to make that call regardless—, once she turned eight, he sent her to the United States every summer to live with family and attend basketball camps.

His eyes were strictly set on his daughter earning a basketball scholarship to a prestigious American university. As years passed by, things went swimmingly. Byul was turning heads and catching the eyes of coaches of highly regarded institutions like Duke University, Notre Dame, even some Ivy League schools. South Korean colleges and universities had improved opportunities for female athletes over time, and were vying for her attention, too. With her overseas family living in Oakland, her top foreign choice was Stanford.

Her official campus visit was the most fun she had ever had. The other three incoming recruits committing to Stanford were amazing; they all clicked. The girls already on the team showed them a great time. The coaches were enthusiastic and excited to have them. Everything was set. She was going to sign with them on a full athletic scholarship. Until she wasn’t.

At the last minute, her visa was denied. Capturing her devastation in words would take chapters, but yes, Byulyi was devastated. Seoul National University—a powerhouse in their own right—gladly stepped in to save the day. Partially. It was too late to sign Moonbyul for the upcoming academic year. They had no more athletic scholarships to offer. The one that they were saving for Byul was offered to another athlete upon learning that the former had committed to Stanford. The best they could do for her was offer a full scholarship for the following year. The coaching staff understood her family’s financial situation, though, and knew that paying SNU tuition out-of-pocket was not an option; encouraging Moonbyul to take out loans wasn’t something that sat well with them either. They recommended that Moonbyul attend a junior college near her hometown for the time being. There, she could still play basketball and not pay much for classes. That’s exactly what she ended up doing.

“What has you so deep in thought?” It was Heeyeon.

“Did you remodel the restroom? What took you so long?”

“I don’t answer to you, but for your information, I wasn’t in the restroom the entire time.”

“Kinky,” Moonbyul replied in a monotone voice.

“I swear on everything, you are so annoying!”

“Thank you. I’ve worked hard to perfect my craft,” the younger basketball star replied while stealing some kimchi from Heeyeon’s recently placed tray.

Smacking the blonde’s hand away, Heeyeon refocused the conversation. “Seriously,” she started, “what were you thinking about? It’s like you were in a trance.”

“I was thinking about my first year of college in juco*.”

“Ah. You said you enjoyed your time there.”

“I did. Eventually. Not going to lie, it took time to deal with the fact that I wasn’t at Stanford. A lot of time.”

“I bet. That’s a big difference, especially when you had your sights set on Stanford and they had their sights set on you. Can’t imagine how rough it must have been to see everything fall through out of nowhere.”

“Yeah. The juco* had its pros, though.”

“Uh, yeah, it did! You got to have your mom’s home-cooked food every day; they covered your tuition; your team won a championship; all of your credits transferred to SNU, so you didn’t miss a year; and you had gorgeous girls throwing themselves at you the entire time!”

“Oh my goodness. No girls threw themselves at me. Stop,” Moonbyul whispered. Cheeks tainted pink, she lunged across the dining hall table to clamp a hand over Heeyeon’s mouth while scanning their surroundings to see if anyone had heard Heeyeon’s nonsense. How her team’s star athlete remained so shy about her popularity with women was fascinating to the captain, especially since Byul was far from a virgin.

Removing her friend’s hand from her mouth Heeyeon continued her talk. “Why are you acting like this? Girls everywhere make their interest in you very obvious. You sleep with girls all the time, it’s not a secret. Everyone knows.”

“It’s not about everyone knowing I’m a lesbian. I don’t hide that. I just don’t want anyone to think I’m a player. If they hear you talking about me and ‘my girls,’ that’s the first thing they’ll think.”

“You know I love you, right? You’re easily one of my most favorite people.” These sweet words comforted Moonbyul. It was short-lived, though, as Heeyeon grabbed her hand and continued, “That’s why I can be honest. You’re a player, Byul. On and off the court.” The younger snatched her hand back from her best friend and captain’s grasp. Dining hall-goers momentarily stopped what they were doing to stare at the two girls as Heeyeon’s boisterous laugh grabbed everyone’s attention.

“Oh my goodness! You’re so loud! I’m leaving.”

Moonbyul stood up and went to pick up her red plastic tray. As she did so, Heeyeon stopped her. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry, don’t go.” Reading nothing but sincerity in her bestie’s eyes, Byulyi sat back down. “It’s funny, though, because that’s part of the reason I was gone for so long.” Encouraged by Byul raising a curious eyebrow, she kept on. “I did go to the restroom. Nothing eventful happened there, but when I went to get some food, I felt eyes on me. It was this girl, she was pretty. Anyway, we were on line waiting for a worker to refill the stew.”

“Stew? In the summer?” Moonbyul interrupted.

“Is there a rule that says stew can’t be had during the summer?” Heeyeon responded, challenging Byul.

“Whatever, continue,” Moonbyul dismissively responded.

“Anyway, as I was saying, we were on line waiting and I felt someone staring at me so I turned around and she just kept staring. I asked, ‘Can I help you?’ She asked me if I was on the women’s basketball team, which I mean, a little rude seeing as I’m a captain, but okay, I was humbled. I told her that I was and that I was a captain.”

Rolling her eyes and giggling, Moonbyul interrupted again, “Of course you did.”

“Like, come on! I’m a captain. You know I don’t brag about things, but this is one accomplishment I’m very proud of. Getting back to the story, I told her I was one of the captains and her eyes lit up! I shit you not, the next thing she says is ‘So that means you know Moon Byulyi, right?’”

For the second time during their meal, Moonbyul’s cheeks were tinged pink. She laid her head on the table, covering it with both arms. “You have to be joking.”

“I’m dead serious,” Heeyeon gleefully responded. Byul’s embarrassment over her fame amongst the student body seemed like appropriate punishment for her earlier uncleanliness in their locker room. “There’s more. So I go, ‘Yeah, I know Byulyi. We actually came here together.’ Again, eyes. Lit. Up. She’s smiling big, so excited. It was adorable. She’s bold though, I’ll give her that, because then she goes, ‘Can you introduce me? I’m a fan.’” If Byul could sink into the floor to get away from all of this, she would have. “It gets even **better**! I’m still your friend and someone that cares about you, so I let her down gently and said that we just came back from practice so you were pretty tired. You’re welcome, by the way. I made sure to get her name. Turns out she’s a first-year on the soccer team. I almost screamed, Byulyi. The poor girl has no idea that the two of you would never be allowed to happen. I guess the team hasn’t told their rookies that you’re on the shit list.”

“I still can’t believe that.” Moonbyul mumbled, head still covered by her arms on the table. “The **entire** team hates me over a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?! You were sleeping with two members of their team at the same time and neither of them knew! I do not understand how you get yourself into these situations.”

Byul had time today. Her head shot up as she defended herself. “How was I supposed to know?! I was new and I barely even knew everyone on **our** team! Plus, I met them in completely different contexts. One of them I met while working at Residential Life. She told me she played soccer, but lots of students from other schools worked there over the summer, so I didn’t know she meant she played soccer at **Seoul National University**! The other one, Hyunjae introduced us and just said, ‘Byulyi, this is my friend so and so,’ casual just like that. Never mentioned she played soccer here. I. Did. Not. Know. Not until the group of us from the basketball team went to one of the soccer games and I saw both of them on the field. I wanted to die.” Recalling her friend’s misfortune elicited a new round of laughter from Heeyeon. Moonbyul, she knew, was an absolute sweetheart. That was one of the main reasons she broke so many hearts.

“Well, you found out soon enough. Remember when they both came up to you after the game and Jonghee asked how you knew both of them? They were furious when they figured it out! That debacle was when I knew that you were going to be fun to have as a friend.”

“No idea how you can enjoy telling that story. Their team came to our basketball games and **booed** me every time I touched the ball, Han.” Face buried in her hands, Byul finished disheartened, “That whole thing was so embarrassing. They didn’t even accept my apology.”

“You told them that you ‘felt bad’. Imagine sleeping with someone for a few weeks and then they come to you and say, ‘I feel bad about it.’ I want to scream from laughter. That was the beginning of the SNU chapter of Moon Byulyi, the ladykilling legend.”

“That team hates me.”

“Well, now you have **one** fan there. Until they make her hate you, too. Come to think of it, maybe I should have introduced you to her,” Heeyeon contemplated, stroking her chin.

It was July. Classes didn’t start until August but girls were already a problem. Moonbyul was stressed and needed to focus on school and basketball only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *juco: junior college, aka a community college. Jucos are two-year colleges. They operate differently country to country, but in the U.S., students earn their Associate's degree upon graduating from a juco. Those that go to four-year colleges or universities afterwards can usually have their credits from the juco counted, so they can start as third-years instead of starting over from their first year. In terms of athletics, athletes may go to jucos if they haven't been heavily recruited for a four-year school or if they want more time to prepare (for whatever reason) for a four-year school. They usually stay the full two years at the juco then enter a four-year school as a junior/third-year. In this story, Byul only stayed one year at the juco before going to SNU.


	4. Fuzziness

“Okay, tell me everything. I’m listening.”

“You’re not. You’re cutting meat.”

“Do you really think that little of me? I can multitask, Yongsun. Hmph, you think you know someone after working with them for three years, then they tell you how they **really** feel about you.” Momentarily putting down the scissors that were in his right hand, Eric clutched at his chest. “I’m hurt.” Yongsun couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.

“You’re so dramatic.”

Though delayed by a week, the meal that Eric had promised her was finally happening. It wasn’t that she was trying to avoid him—she was actually quite excited to meet up with Eric—, it was more that she had so **much** to take care of for graduate school that she couldn’t make time for much else. Most of the logistics were now taken care of though, so here they were on a Thursday night, in a nice-enough-but-not-over-the-top barbecue restaurant. As the establishment wasn’t that crowded, their meat sizzling on the grill would be the most noise they’d have to contend with throughout their conversation.

Yongsun kept up some small talk as Eric cooked their meat, but she refused to get into the nitty gritty of what lay ahead for her until she had his undivided attention.

“I know what you’re doing, by the way,” Eric shared as he flipped a few pieces of hanwoo beef.

“Oh yeah? What am I doing?” Yongsun asked, a small smile growing on her face.

His focus still on the grill, he responded, “You’re making small talk until I’m done grilling everything so that you have my undivided attention.” The man was perceptive.

“Look, you claim you can multitask, and maybe you can, but I’m not going to repeat myself a million times because you can’t hear me over the sound of the grill. ‘Huh? What’d you say? Repeat that, Yongsun. One more time. I didn’t hear you.’”

“Your impersonation of me is horrible.”

“That’s the point.”

Lowering the grill’s temperature, Eric exaggeratedly placed the tongs on the table’s side and leaned closer to Yongsun, who was seated across the table from him. “I’m finished cooking **your** food. You now have my undivided attention, ma’am. Can you start with the story?”

“Gladly!” Although he rolled his eyes, Eric had to smile at Yongsun’s cheeky response.

“Whatever friends you make at SNU are going to have their hands full with you.”

“Me? Making friends? Sounds fake, but okay. Do you want a wrap?” She was already making one for him but needed to steer the conversation elsewhere. Having been busy with getting everything else in order, she hadn’t yet thought about the fact that she’d be alone and friendless at SNU.

“Yes, please. And stop, you’re going to make friends.”

“If you say so,” she responded skeptically. “Here’s your wrap.”

“Thank you. Here’s some more rice wine,” he placed a refilled cup in front of her. “Like I was saying, you’ll make friends. It’s grad school; the class sizes are smaller. You’ll be around the same people every week, doing a bunch of group projects, it’s only natural that you all will grow comfortable with each other. Trust me.”

“I’d never.”

“Yet you let me cook your food. You trust me with your life.”

“I was watching you the entire time!”

“You were watching me the entire time because you were counting down until you could eat this hanwoo beef.” To that she had no response. Yongsun could list on one hand the amount of times she had had hanwoo beef. It was **so** good, but **so** expensive. “Ew. Close your mouth, you’re drooling,” Eric mocked.

“Shut up! Leave me alone.”

He made sure to take a sip of his soju before continuing, “You’ll make friends. One recommendation, though, instead of waiting for others to talk to you, try to be proactive.” The face she made in response to that urged him to scale his previous statement back. “One person! Just one. Go up to one person and start a conversation with them. You can do that. Promise me.” Met with silence, he pushed the issue. “Yongsun, promise me. One person.”

“Ugh. Fine.” She reached her right hand across their table to link her pinky with his.

“Good. Tell me the details now. When do classes start?”

“They start on August 26th, so I have a bit of time.”

“You have a month and a day.”

“Like I said,” she stared at him, daring him to challenge her again, “I have a bit of time.”

“Okay, okay. Easy there, tiger. You have a bit of time. When are you leaving Suwon for Seoul? Where are you living?”

“I found this apartment complex not far from campus called University Village. They had mixed reviews when I looked them up online, but so did the other options, and this one was one of the more affordable and presentable looking places. Fully furnished! The lease starts on August 1st, which is next Thursday. I’m planning on moving in then. It works out well because my current lease ends on July 31st. My landlord offered to give me until that Saturday, but I told him I didn’t need that much extra time. If anything, I’ll store my things there for a day or two.”

“That’s aggressive. How are you getting there? Have you started packing yet?” Eric was slightly worried for her. This was a lot for one person to manage on their own. She took a moment to finish another wrap before responding.

“I was thinking of taking the train. If I take my most important items first, I could set up my room and then take the train back and forth until I get everything to Seoul.”

“There’s no way you’re serious.” Eric’s voice was very matter-of-fact, devoid of any emotion, signaling his unhappiness with her response. Yongsun decided to stay quiet for a moment and give him some time to gather his thoughts and emotions. She knew he would never blow up at her, Eric wasn’t like that. Not with her, at least. Still, she’d prefer if they didn’t ruin a lovely dinner by getting into a disagreement over something, in her opinion, so miniscule. She waited. After downing another wrap and taking a few sips of soju, he released a heavy sigh and spoke up. “I get that you’ve always had to do things for yourself, but there are people that would be glad to make things easier for you if you gave them a chance. You’re not taking a train back and forth from SKKU* to Seoul. That’s ridiculous. I’ll drive you.”

“The train ride isn’t long at all. I could get everything to my room in one day, maybe two.”

“So you’d rather pay for however many train rides than take **one** car ride with a **friend** for **free**?” He usually tried to understand Yongsun’s perspective on things, but this was too much.

“You have work.”

“I can take off for a day, Yongsun.”

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“How would you be an inconvenience when it’s something that I offered? Although, I am still slightly irritated that you didn’t think to at least ask.” He wouldn’t stop until she agreed to his offer. She knew this. He knew that she knew this. And she knew that he knew that she knew this. Yongsun dropped her head in defeat. Eric had won. “Yes!”

“No one has ever been this excited about signing up to help someone move. You’re an odd man.”

“I’m one-of-a-kind. You’ll never find someone like me ever again.”

“Thank goodness,” Yongsun shot back.

“Please. You’ll miss me. Not to worry, though. I’ll be in Seoul to celebrate my birthday. Save the date.”

“Sorry, I’m busy that day,” she immediately responded, her face as serious as ever. Eric had to laugh at this. “You’re getting old. This will be your 30th birthday, right?”

“I’m turning 26, thank you very much.”

“Same thing.”

“You’re such a smartass! I’m going to order more meat, so hurry up and tell me the rest of the details since you don’t think I can grill and listen at the same time. So far, I’ve gathered that we’re leaving next Thursday, I’m helping you unpack, then we’re eating dinner. What else? Did you figure out financial aid stuff? What about classes?”

The fuzziness from their earlier disagreement was now gone and long forgotten. Instead, Yongsun animatedly rattled off information about everything else. She was taking four classes. Three were required, but she got to choose the fourth—Creativity and Education. She would also be afforded some financial freedom! The department offered her a full scholarship; it covered tuition and fees. They also had a position open as a lecture student. She’d have to work ten hours each week, but compared to the amount of jobs she held throughout her undergraduate years, this was lightwork. The position came with a monthly scholarship. With the scholarship from the College of Education in effect, the money from this job would be deposited directly into her bank account.

It took time to arrive at this point, but Yongsun was finally excited about graduate school. In only seven days’ time, she’d be leaving the city she called home for the past five years to start a new chapter in her life. Although a bit terrified, she was looking forward to exploring the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SKKU: Sungkyunkwan University


	5. The Three Stooges

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Hyejinnie! Happy birthday to you.” Clown #1 and Clown #2 made sure to maintain eye contact with each other while harmonizing the last note.

Hyejin had looked on adoringly as her best friends serenaded her. She was in the middle of placing meat into her mouth when they had finished their song. In order to promptly acknowledge their effort, the black-haired beauty needed to free her hands. She quickly chewed and swallowed her food before sticking the chopsticks she held into her mouth. “Ohhhhhhhh” she exclaimed, enthusiastically clapping. Grabbing the sticks from her mouth, she continued, “That was actually decent.”

A proud smirk on her face, Wheein returned to the seat next to her other half and took a shot of soju. Moonbyul had already been seated across from the two younger girls. She took it upon herself to respond to Hyejin’s compliment. “Of course it was. Wheein is good at everything she does, and I’m me.” At that, she winked at Hyejin. It was meant for the youngest of the three, but both Hyejin and Wheein cringed out loud at Moonbyul’s actions.

“Ew! Unnie, stop! That’s gross,” Hyejin pleaded. Wheein gasped, both hands covering her mouth that hung open in faux shock.

“Don’t you both think your reactions are too harsh? I was joking. And you, Wheein,” she pointed at the short-haired girl, “you used to like all of these ‘gross’ actions.”

“I liked your greasiness for literally seven seconds and then I came to my senses.”

“Wow. Can’t trust anyone these days.” She tried to play it off, but the soon-to-be second-years could tell that Moonbyul felt a way about their teasing.

“Aww, unnie, don’t be like that,” Hyejin reached across the table to caress the blonde’s face. “You know we love you. We’re just joking.”

“Whatever.”

“It’s my birthday, don’t be sour.”

“Your birthday was on Tuesday. It’s Friday.”

“Jung Wheein! See what you did?” Hyejin turned to her right and slapped Wheein’s left shoulder. “You ruined my birthday celebration by making unnie sad.”

Rubbing her tender shoulder, Wheein got up and walked around the table to sit next to Moonbyul who was purposely avoiding acknowledging the younger. “Unnie. Don’t be like this. You know Wheeinie wuvs you.” She wrapped her arms around Moonbyul’s neck, continuing with her aegyo. It was Byul’s weakness. It was everyone’s weakness. Wheein knew this.

A smile reluctantly grew on Moonbyul’s face.

“Yay! It worked, Wheein! She’s happy again. Let’s all take a shot!”

Jung Wheein and Ahn Hyejin had been the talk of the town since they arrived at Seoul National University last year. The childhood best friends stepped on campus with a decade-long friendship under their belts. Their bond was something that made everyone else around them envious, not only because their level of connection was something that few could relate to, but also because their friendship left them with no interest in making new friends. The list of students seeking ways to get closer to the Jeonju girls was endless. Although their courses of study led to them making acquaintances, Wheein and Hyejin were each other’s lifelines and took care to not stray away from that. That was the plan, until Moon Byulyi showed up.

Technically, they showed up at Moonbyul’s door. Literally.

Even though it was Byulyi’s first year at Seoul National University, academically, she was a second-year student. To help her get acclimated to campus, and to ensure she could ease seamlessly into summer training with the women’s basketball team, the coaches had secured her a summer job with the Office of Residential Life. The office had an array of summer programming to account for. From pre-college programs to SNU students taking summer classes and living in dorms, Residential Life was responsible for employing Residential Advisors that would support every student living on campus. This was how Moonbyul’s world collided with that of Wheein and Hyejin.

The two had enrolled in a pre-college program at SNU. Like Moonbyul, they wanted to get a lay of the land before classes had officially begun. As first-year students, they knew that there would be a new student orientation a week before classes started, but that was not enough time for these two. They wanted to know the campus and the neighborhood surrounding it inside out. For the most part, they were self‑sufficient; when they wanted to explore, they explored. When they needed something, they went out and found it. One day, though, they found themselves without anything to do.

_Summers in Korea were no joke. At normal temperatures, the two best friends knew no such thing as personal space. If it were about ten degrees cooler, they’d be sharing a bed, watching a movie on one of their laptops. It wasn’t ten degrees cooler, though. It was hot. And humid. The type of humidity where one left the shower, walked to the bedroom, and needed to shower again from the stickiness that clung to the body. There was an issue with their central air that wouldn’t be fixed until the next day, and the fans strategically placed throughout their room did nothing but blow hot air about the place. It was miserable._

_Wheein and Hyejin were in their dorm room, lounging on their respective beds, suffering. It was Friday, the end of their first week at their pre-college program and their first day off. No classes, no mandated social activities, nothing. They had had high hopes for the day until the day actually arrived and the heat wave vaporized any desire to do anything._

_“Wheein-ah,” Hyejin croaked. “Let’s do something.” Wheein was face down on her bed across the room. She made no move to acknowledge what Hyejin had just said. “Wheein-ah! Answer me.” Silence. Hyejin groaned as she reluctantly rolled off of her bed to approach her bestie. Wheein was making her expend more energy than was needed on this illegally hot day. She’d pay dearly for that. “I said,” Hyejin spoke louder as she walked towards Wheein, “let’s do something!” She threw herself onto Wheein’s back, making sure to wrap her arms and legs around her for added effect._

_“Yah! Hyejin! It’s too hot for that. Get off of me!”_

_“No. This is what you get for ignoring me. You know I don’t like that.”_

_“Hyejin, I’m serious. Get off of me.” Wheein was serious, pissed actually, but Hyejin still kept at it._

_“No. Let’s do something. Please? Pretty please?” She started kissing Wheein’s neck. “Please, Wheeinie?” Again, if it were a tolerable temperature, Wheein would laugh this off, but it wasn’t a tolerable temperature._

_“Hyejin, seriously, let me go. Get off of me. I’m not joking. It’s too hot for this. Let me gooooooo,” she whined. “I feel like screaming right now. This is too much. It’s too much, Hyejin-ah.” Taking pity on her best friend, Hyejin slowly removed herself from Wheein’s back, but made sure to lay right next to her. Mirroring her annoyed friend’s positioning, Hyejin stayed on her stomach and stared at Wheein, who stared back._

_“Let’s do something,” she whispered. Wheein rolled her eyes but responded anyway._

_“What do you want to do?” Hyejin hadn’t thought things out this far. Truthfully, she thought it would have taken longer to get Wheein to agree to anything._

_“Uhhhhhhh . . .”_

_“You did all of that and don’t even know what you want to do? Get away from me!”_

_Clinging to Wheein, who was actively trying to push her off the bed, Hyejin quickly answered, “No, no! Let’s go to the RA’s open hours! There’s supposed to be free food.” At that, Wheein relaxed._

_“Open hours?”_

_“Yeah. I saw a sign in the dorm’s lobby saying that there are supposed to be open hours today. I don’t really know what that means, but it said free food. That can’t be bad, right?”_

_“How long are the open hours supposed to be?” They were both wearing oversized t-shirts. No bras. “We can’t go like this. We’d have to shower and look presentable.”_

_“Hold on. I took a picture of the sign.” Moments later, Hyejin returned to Wheein’s bed, this time sitting on the edge. “It says 2:00 pm to 4:00 pm.” They both checked the time. 12:53 pm. “Perfect. We have more than enough time to shower and get dressed.”_

_“Where is it taking place?” Wheein asked, sitting up for the first time all day._

_“Room 419. I guess the RA is doing it in their room. Let me see. The paper says Moon Byulyi. That’s the Residential Advisor’s name.”_

_“Whatever. Go shower first.”_

_One thing that these two didn’t play with was food. At 2:00 pm on the dot, they were outside of room 419._

_“What do we do?” Wheein asked?_

_“I don’t know. Knock.”_

_“You knock. It was your idea.”_

_“Fine.” As Hyejin lifted her hand to knock on the door, it opened. In front of them stood a tall blonde woman wearing a black cap. Well, tall to them seeing as, other than children, they were shorter than almost everyone they met. Her fitted navy blue training shorts ended right above her knees. The white Nike Elite crew socks on her feet stopped mid-shin, revealing toned calves. The dark grey t-shirt she wore showed off her relatively broad shoulders. She was slim, but her body was toned. Everything about her screamed ‘athlete’. The three of them stared at each for a few seconds before Hyejin spoke up in a demure voice._

_“We’re here for food.” The girl’s responding smile was beautiful. Her entire face lit up, eyes and nose scrunching._

_“Cool! I wasn’t sure if anyone was actually going to come to this, but I’m glad you two did! I’m Moon Byulyi, the RA of this building this summer. You can call me Moonbyul, though. Oh, I should invite you in. Come in! I have air conditioning.” She moved aside making space for her new acquaintances to enter her room. “Make yourselves comfortable. There’s lots of pizza and chicken on the table there; help yourselves to as much of it as you’d like. I doubt many others are going to stop by. I did a crappy job of promoting this event.” Hyejin didn’t have to be told twice. Making a beeline for the food, she pulled Wheein—who hadn’t yet uttered one word—with her._

_Moonbyul had left the room for a bit. Hyejin took the opportunity to address Wheein’s strange behavior. “What’s wrong with you?” She whispered. “You haven’t said anything yet, just stared at her.”_

_“She’s cute.” Wheein answered, looking everywhere but at Hyejin, embarrassment taking over her body._

_“Ohhhh, Jung Wheein has a crush!”_

_“Shut up!” She smacked Hyejin on the shoulder._

_“Jung Wheein has a crush on our RA!” Hyejin continued teasing, making sure to keep her voice down. “That’s cute.” Moonbyul returned to the room in that moment._

_“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to keep the door open since the air is on, but I wanted to let other people know that open hours were going on, so I made this sign to put on my door, but then I realized I didn’t have tape. Had to go down to the office on the first floor to borrow some. Then I ran into a few other residents, but that was great because I got to tell them about open hours; they had no idea this was happening, but now they do, so hopefully they actually come like they said they would. Oh! That would be cool for you two. You’d get to mingle with others that are a part of this program. How cool would that be?” As Moonbyul rambled on and on, Hyejin ate to her heart’s content, nodding here and there to signal that she was listening despite her eating. Wheein just continued to stare. “Whoa, I’m so rude. Didn’t even ask for your names.” She playfully slapped herself on the head._

_“I’m Hyejin,” the youngest announced. Pointing her chopsticks at Wheein she said, “That’s Wheein. We’re in this pre-college program to get used to this campus because we’re enrolling at SNU this year.”_

_“Whoa! That’s why I’m working as an RA here. I start at SNU in the fall, too!”_

_“You’re a first-year student?” Hyejin was shocked. The girl seemed older._

_“I’m a transfer. It’s a long story, but I was at a junior college last year, so I’m coming into SNU as a second-year student. I’m part of the women’s basketball team.”_

_“That explains the outfit. It gives off athletic vibes.”_

_“Happy to hear it. Would either of you like something to drink?” Walking over to the mini fridge in the corner of her room, Moonbyul listed off the options, “I have cider, cola, and water.”_

_“Two waters, please.” Once again, Hyejin answered for both her and Wheein._

_“Here you go.” Turning to Wheein, Moonbyul asked, “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable? You’ve been pretty quiet.”_

_“No, you’re fine. I’m okay. Thank you.” Her shy response made Moonbyul smile._

_“Cute.” Wheein’s face blushed red, unbeknownst to Moonbyul, who had already turned to go get some food of her own._

_The residents that Moonbyul ran into earlier did eventually stop by, not for long. It ended up mainly being Moonbyul, Hyejin, and Wheein. 4:00 pm came and went. Wheein grew more comfortable, and the trio stayed together until 9:00 pm. They played music, they ordered more food, they talked about any and everything._

_“So . . . I’m on the basketball team, but other than my teammates, I don’t really know anyone here.” Byul was nervous. “You two are new, I’m new, I don’t know, maybe we could all hang out some more?” The two were clearly very close, but Moonbyul had enjoyed her time with them and was hoping they’d be willing to make space for her in their friend group. From the conversations they had with Moonbyul today, Wheein and Hyejin had gathered that she was a big-time athlete. Watching her so unsure about asking them to be friends was endearing._

_“Only if you keep feeding us,” Hyejin teased, a sweet smile on her face. Moonbyul also smiled. She had made her first friends at SNU._

_“I’ll see what I can do.”_

Wheein’s crush on Moonbyul quickly died, and the friendship among the three grew organically to the point that they became a well-known trio on campus. They were inseparable, so much so that now, almost a year later, Wheein and Hyejin made the trek from Jeonju to Seoul just so that all three could celebrate Hyejin’s 20th birthday together. Both spent their summer break back in their hometown, but decided to spend this weekend with Moonbyul. A birthday celebration without their unnie would have been incomplete.

The three had been in this barbecue restaurant for a couple hours already, laughing, drinking, enjoying each other’s company. “I can’t wait for this school year,” Wheein stated.

“Oh goodness, Wheein is talking nonsense,” the birthday girl slightly slurred. “Who wants more school? Silly girl!” She laughed at her non-joke.

“Okay, that’s enough alcohol for you.” Moonbyul grabbed the shot of soju that Hyejin was about to swallow.

“I’m not drunk, unnie! I promise. Pinky.”

“She’s drunk,” both Wheein and Moonbyul responded at the same time.

“Here, eat more food, Hyejinnie,” Wheein said, filling Hyejin’s plate with more meat and vegetables. “Unnie, what are you looking forward to this year?” She asked Byul.

“Basketball. I didn’t like how our season ended.”

“Well, yeah, your team lost in the championship game. I don’t think anyone would like that.”

“We could have played better. Should have played better. I worked hard during the off-season to improve.”

“Unnie, you were amazing the entire season, breaking all kinds of school records.”

“Well, that clearly wasn’t enough.” Wheein hated it when Moonbyul got down on herself for things that were beyond her control. She had done the best she could do.

“Improvement is always great, but make sure not to push yourself too much. Make time for some fun, too, unnie.”

“According to some people, all I do is have fun.” Wheein sighed. Alcohol made Hyejin flirty and emotional and made Moonbyul angsty and dramatic.

“Who said that?”

“Heeyeon. She said last week that people think I’m a player.”

“You can play with me, unnie,” Hyejin chimed in, a fit of giggles starting right after.

“Hyejin-ah! I’m cutting you off. Water only for the rest of the night.”

“Wheein-ah, why?” She pouted. “I was joking. Byul-unnie, you know I was joking, right?” Moonbyul couldn’t stay sour while Hyejin was being so adorable.

“You’re so cute, Hyejinnie.” That lifted the baby’s spirits. Satisfied, she went back to eating her food.

“Back to you,” Wheein redirected the conversation, “you’re not a player. Heeyeon-unnie was probably just messing around with you. You’re not built to be a player.”

“I know I should be happy to hear you say that, but I’m suddenly slightly offended that you don’t think I could be a player.”

“You’re not capable of being a player,” Hyejin asserted. “You’re too soft.”

“Soft?!”

“You are, unnie,” Wheein confirmed. “You care too much to be a player. You’re definitely a heartbreaker, though!”

“Oh, yes! Heartbreaker for sure!”

“Hyejin-ah, you’re too loud. Lower your voice.”

“Oh. Sorry,” the youngest whispered.

“Wait,” Moonbyul was back at it, “what’s the difference between a player and a heartbreaker?” Hyejin took it upon herself to answer.

“A player chooses to be that way. They pursue multiple people with no intention of committing to any of them, but a heartbreaker . . . breaks . . . hearts,” she finished off weakly.

Lovingly shaking her head at her best friend, Wheein commented, “You were doing so well, Hyejin-ah.” She patted Hyejin’s head. “A heartbreaker doesn’t necessarily intentionally play with people’s feelings. Like with you, you don’t mess with girls’ emotions on purpose. It kind of just happens. You’re sweet.”

“And funny! And attractive!”

“And talented, and well-mannered, and kind.”

“And considerate.”

“Aww, you two really do love me,” Moonbyul answered sarcastically.

“But you flirt too much sometimes,” Wheein ignored Moonbyul’s joke and continued seriously. “All of that messes with girls, because you’re really good to them, so they catch feelings and most of the time you don’t realize that everything you’re doing makes them fall for you more and more.”

“And then they make a move on you and you **never** expect it, which is weird, unnie. Everyone around you can tell that these girls like you, but you never see it.”

“What if they’re just being nice? I don’t want to assume that everyone has a huge crush on me.”

“Maybe it’s best if you assume that from now on. It will save you some headaches.”

“Wheeinie, remember that girl that invited her over ‘to watch a movie’ and then she came back surprised that that girl kissed her?” Wheein and Hyejin laughed out loud remembering this, much to Moonbyul’s displeasure.

“Was I supposed to know that ‘watching a movie’ was code for something else? We were partners for a class project and she never made moves on me. Why would I think she had ulterior motives?”

“She kept asking you to eat with her, even after the project ended,” Wheein laughed in disbelief. “You’re very naïve sometimes, unnie.”

“Nothing’s worse, though, than when a girl makes a move on her and instead of rejecting them, she goes along with it ‘to not make them feel bad.’”

“No one likes being rejected!” Moonbyul exclaimed.

“Well, they’re going to get rejected by you anyway because you don’t like most of them like that,” Wheein countered.

“How do you always fall into these situations, Byul-unnie? It happens so often. I would have thought you’d have learned your lesson by now. You’re lucky that none of this happens in public.”

“Yeah. People know you like girls and they assume that you hook up with some, but the only girls they see you around are your teammates, me, and Hyejin, so they can never link you to anyone specific.”

“Except those soccer girls!” Hyejin added.

“Oh my goodness. Please, can we not talk about them? That was so embarrassing. I actually liked the two of them.” Shame flooded Moonbyul.

“We know,” Wheein laughed, “you were sleeping with both of them.”

“How did you manage that, unnie? You’re usually too timid to make a move when it comes to girls you like.”

“Each of them made the move, not me. I just went along with it because I actually liked them.”

“The soccer team must have special girls on it. You’re normally so picky when it comes to who you like, you find the smallest reasons to not like someone anymore, but you found **two** girls on the **same** team that you liked around the **same** time,” Wheein thought out loud.

“Okay! Thank you. My original question was answered. I’m not a player and people don’t think of me as one.”

“Yes, we concluded that you’re not a player, but you’re a heartbreaker and unbelievably naïve!” Wheein and Moonbyul bickered for a few more moments before Hyejin cut them off.

“I love you both so much. You make me so happy. Let’s be together forever, okay! A shot! Let’s take a shot!”

Byul and Wheein burst out laughing at Hyejin’s antics. “You’re so drunk, Hyejinnie,” Moonbyul cooed. “Wheein, you’re going to have to watch her in the morning because I have to leave for practice.”

“I knew this was going to happen, unnie! You kept feeding her drinks and I told you to stop!”

“It’s her birthday celebration! She has to drink.”

“I hope she throws up on your bed tonight.”

“Yah, Jung Wheein, take that back!”

“No!”

“Okay, fine. Find somewhere else to store your belongings. When I move into my apartment at University Village next week, I’ll leave your things behind.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

“Fine. I take it back. I don’t hope she throws up on your bed.” At that, a satisfied smile made a home on Moonbyul’s face. “I hope she throws up on you instead.” Her smile dropped. There was no winning with Jung Wheein.

The three stayed in the restaurant for a couple more hours, bickering, eating, teasing each other. They didn’t know what the upcoming school year would bring, but as long as they had each other, they’d be more than fine.


	6. The Promise

The day finally arrived.

Her apartment had never been extravagantly decorated in the first place, but watching it now completely bare and empty brought on a wave of unexpected nostalgia. Her move to Seoul was real, it was happening.

The more Yongsun thought about all of this, the more nervous she grew. Eric’s talk last week about making friends had stuck with her. She knew no one at that school. Yes, she was from Seoul and her parents still lived there, but hanging out with her parents all the time was not an option. Some of her classmates from SKKU worked in the capital, but she had never been close with the ones that she knew for a fact were there. Eric was the closest thing to a friend that she had, and he was staying behind in Suwon.

Her pessimistic thoughts were cut short by her cell vibrating on the kitchen counter. “You’ll live long,” she said into her phone.

“Uh, I called to say that I arrived and that I was making my way up to your floor, but what’s this about me living long?”

“It’s a saying. If someone is thinking or talking about someone else and then the person they were thinking or talking about contacts them soon after, people say, ‘You’ll live long.’ It’s like, ‘Oh, I was thinking about you and then you popped up.’”

“I see,” Eric responded skeptically. “Open your door.” For once, she followed instructions, walked to her door, and opened it. There in all of his non-glory stood Eric.

“What’s with this outfit? Do you think you’re a celebrity or something?” She critically assessed him from head to toe as she spoke. He stood in her doorway with a smirk on his face. Black hat, black mask, black short-sleeved t-shirt, black shorts, white crew socks, black Vans. Completely ignoring her snark, he brushed past her into the villa apartment. After closing her door, Yongsun turned to find Eric standing a few feet away, smirk still in place. “What’s so funny?”

“You were thinking about me?” He wagged his eyebrows at her.

“What?” Confusion. She was confused.

“You said I’ll live long. Then you said that that means someone—you being that someone—was thinking or talking about someone else—me.” His satisfaction at this was unacceptable to Youngsun. She had to kill it immediately.

“Yeah. I was thinking about how annoying you are and how excited I am to finally be away from you.”

“Lies!” Although his words were for Yongsun, his focus was on scanning her packed belongings to figure out what would be taken to the vehicle first. “I know you. You talk all this big talk, but you’re going to miss me. It’s okay to say it.”

“**Anyway**, Mr. Celebrity, what’s the plan for this stuff?”

“You don’t have as much as I thought you did. I borrowed a friend’s pickup truck and was concerned everything wouldn’t fit in one trip, but if we pack the vehicle properly, we should be good.”

“I feel like you’re making up all these friends of yours.”

Bending down to pick up one of her boxes, Eric dryly responded, “Ha ha. You are **so** funny. It’s like you’re the funniest person ever to have funnied. Could you get the door for me, please? I’m going to take this down then I’ll be back up.”

Holding the door open for him, Yongsun fussed over his well-being, “Are you sure it’s not too heavy? Are you sure you’re good? We can carry it together if it’s too much.”

Eric chuckled, “Aww, see, you do care about me. I’m good, though. It’s not too heavy and you live on the second floor so it’ll only be one flight of stairs. I’ll be right back.”

There wasn’t much more talking for the next hour as Eric and Yongsun carried things to the pickup truck. They did well to empty the villa apartment and carefully pack the vehicle. He had showed up around 11 am. By 12:30 pm, they were on their way to Seoul. The drive was only a little more than half an hour, not long at all. For most of the ride, Eric drove while Yongsun laid her head on the passenger side window; one of his playlists served as background noise for them both. Soon after they entered Seoul, Eric lowered the music, a pressing question having suddenly come to mind.

“Coach Lim came in and asked about you the other day. You didn’t you tell her or any members of the team that you were heading to SNU?” At that, Yongsun lifted her head.

“I . . . did not.”

As a college student, Yongsun had worked several jobs each semester. Her last year in college, she continued as a student worker in Marketing, but also had two additional jobs—both with the SKKU Women’s Basketball team. One was as an Office Assistant for the team’s coaches; the other was as the team’s manager; her main responsibility being videotaping practices and games, and creating video edits for team film sessions. The latter of the jobs ate up most of her time while basketball was in-season. She had to attend all practices and traveled with the team to all of their games. It was a lot of work, but it was also probably her favorite of all the student-worker jobs she had. Not only did she get to travel the country and sleep in nice hotels, she was also afforded the same perks as the athletes: free clothing and sneakers, per diem money over winter break for food, and access to varsity athletic training facilities. To the coaches and team members, she was part of the team. They treated her as such. She had grown close with a few of the team’s members, and due to her job as an Office Assistant, she had grown exceptionally close with the coaches. Coach Lim grew fond of Yongsun, so much so that she took time to help the senior with her job search as graduation approached. Once Yongsun began her full-time job as a Marketing Intern, she saw the team and coaches less frequently, but whenever she did, she was always received positively.

She needed to call Coach Lim once she got settled in to share the news of her going to graduate school.

Interrupting the brown-haired girl’s thoughts, Eric gently scolded her. “Come on, Yongsun. You know she loves you.”

“I know. I was so occupied with getting things together that it slipped my mind. I’ll call her.”

“You definitely should. I’d recommend reaching out to some of the players from your year, too. I think a couple of them are in Seoul. You were fairly close, close enough to get in touch with them and find time to hang out. I really think they’d be happy about it. The entire team liked you.”

“I guess.”

“**And** SNU plays SKKU twice each season, so it would be cool to go watch your old school play against your new school. Make an event out of it with some of the former players. Get together to watch the game, go out for drinks after, it could be a lot of fun!”

“That’s not a bad idea. Look at you, using that brain of yours,” she playfully poked his head while she said this.

“I’m **driving** here.”

“Oh please. We’re practically already here. You’re such a drama queen.”

Eric rolled his eyes but said nothing. She was right. They had arrived.

* * *

“Yongie! Wake up. Wake up, baby.” Gentle fingers ran through Yongsun’s hair, soft lips on her forehead.

“A few more minutes, omma.”

“Come on, don’t fuss. You have to get up and start getting ready. Remember, your father said he’d take you back around 1:00 pm. It’s already 11:00 am.” Although the content of her mother’s message was less than favorable, Yongsun couldn’t be annoyed. Lee Soyoung’s voice was well-known to be soothing and comforting.

“Okay,” she mumbled, “I’m up. I’m up.”

“Good girl. I made breakfast and am almost finished cooking some food for you to take back with you.” Her mom placed another kiss on her forehead before turning to exit Yongsun’s room.

After helping her move into her apartment, Eric treated Yongsun to dinner. It was full of their usual banter. Before leaving, though, he made her promise once more to be proactive about making friends and reminded her that she agreed to go up to at least one person and start a conversation. He also encouraged her to take the next 3.5 weeks before classes started to grow comfortable with the campus.

_“Walk around,” he had said, “Explore new parts of campus every day. Explore the neighborhood around campus. Don’t just stay cooped up in your room.”_

Yongsun took his words into consideration. The very next day, she headed to her parents’ home. Technically, she didn’t completely ignore Eric’s recommendation. She explored campus and the surrounding neighborhood enough to find the train station.

For the past three weeks, she had been living her best life at home with her parents. Maybe “best life” was a bit of a stretch, but it was exactly what she needed when she needed it. For the first week, her parents understood that she may have been tired, and let her sleep for hours on end. She grew restless doing nothing, though, so started helping her mother out with chores during her last two weeks at home. Her mini-vacation was now over, though. Releasing a huge sigh, she grudgingly rolled out of bed, her brown hair swept all about her face. Yongsun grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand next to her bed. 11:17 am.

Thirty minutes later, she sauntered into the kitchen, hugging her mother from behind.

“Everything smells so good, omma,” she said in a baby voice.

“That shower must have been wonderful. You were grumpy earlier and now you’re in such a good mood,” her mom responded happily. It had been a while since she got to spend so much time with her youngest. The past three weeks had been a dream for her. She knew that Yongsun worked exceptionally hard to get to where she was, and a large part of her felt guilty for being unable to ease some of her baby’s burdens. It was her pleasure, then, to dote on Yongsun. Her daughter deserved a break, and she did her best to provide her with one.

“It was,” Yongsun released her mom and stood next to her, watching her seasoning the food on the stove. “I feel better about going back now. Being back in Seoul, being near you and appa, will help a lot.”

“We’re happy that you’re closer, too. There’s breakfast on the table. Go eat, I’ll finish this and pack it up for you.”

“How much did you cook?” Yongsun asked surprised as she saw the containers of food in plastic bags on the living room table. “You know there’s food at school, right?”

“But this is **good** food. Nothing beats a home-cooked meal.” The pride in her mom’s voice made Yongsun smile.

“You’re right. You’re right. Thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course. Anything for my baby.” Her mom walked closer to her and pinched Yongsun’s cheeks.

“Ah, omma! Stop. I’m not a baby!”

“You are. You’re **my** baby. And you always will be.” Yongsun rolled her eyes at her mom’s antics, but secretly loved being taken care of by her parents. Their financial situation often prevented them from providing her with material things, but the amount of love and support they offered meant more than any amount of money.

*

After eating and making sure she had left nothing behind, Yongsun and her dad set off for SNU. The drive with him was quick. Quiet. He was a man of few words. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, not to Yongsun at least. Any time with her father was healing for her. His presence made her feel safe and secure. She didn’t want them to have to part so soon.

As he pulled into University Village’s parking lot, she blurted out, “Do you want to see campus?” Shyly, she continued, “I’m not very familiar with it yet and was going to walk around today, but since you’re here, maybe we can do it together?”

After a few beats, her father responded, “What about your apartment? You don’t need help setting it up?”

“Eric helped me move in and unpack. Everything is done up there.”

“Ah. Eric.” Kim Kwangsun and his wife had met him at Yongsun’s college graduation. He didn’t have much of an opinion on Eric, but he seemed like a nice enough young man. “You know,” Kwangsun turned to his daughter conspiratorially, “your mother thinks that you’re secretly dating him. Don’t tell her that I told you that, though.”

“Ew! No. We’re just friends!”

Kwangsun wasn’t sure if his youngest was freaking out over the fact her mom thought she was dating Eric, or the fact that her parents discussed her love life. Either way, he was enjoying watching her act like a child. Yongsun was quickly growing into an intelligent, independent, beautiful woman, and although he didn’t share it with her, he often worried that she’d outgrow him. As such, he drove her to SNU with the intention of offering to help get her apartment in order; he wanted to be useful and craved quality time with her. A walk around campus, though, was a better, less strenuous alternative. “Good, you’re too young for that anyway,” he joked.

“No I’m not,” she whined, “I’m twenty-three!”

“Okay, okay,” he placated her, “I trust you to make smart decisions when it comes to dating. Be safe.”

“Oh my goodness. Can we not talk about this please?”

“I’d be glad to stop talking about this. Take the food your mother prepared for you upstairs, then we can walk around the campus.”

Part of him found it odd that Yongsun had never discussed dating with her mother, but he and his youngest were very similar when it came to discussing anything dealing with feelings—they just didn’t—so he understood why she’d be hesitant to do so. He sometimes wondered if she was dating at all. There’s no reason that she wouldn’t be, but then that would mean that she was and that wasn’t something he wanted to think about either. This is why he adopted a need-to-know philosophy. She’d let him know about her dating life when and if she felt he needed to know. Until then, he’d leave the matters of young people to the young people.

*

One thing Yongsun didn’t realize until today was how large Seoul National University’s campus was. She and her dad had walked around for a couple hours already, stopping here and there to sightsee, and had only seen about half of the entire campus. That was good enough for her. She’d figure the rest out another day. They began the trek back to University Village when her father asked, “Do you have all of your books for classes already?”

Yongsun’s mouth fell open. Classes started on Monday and she had somehow completely forgotten to purchase books for her classes. Kwangsun chuckled.

“Based on your reaction, you don’t. The bookstore should be on our way back, right? Let’s stop there and I’ll buy them for you.”

“Appa, books are really expensive. There are cheaper alternatives I should probably look into anyway.”

“Yongsun-ah, your studies are important. You need books. I don’t want you to have to rent them or whatever other things students do to acquire books these days. You should have the most updated books and you should own them. If this is the career path you want to pursue, commit to it fully.”

Hearing her dad speak so passionately about her studies made her realize that she needed to be better at accepting kindness, especially from her parents. “You’re right. Thank you, appa.” Kwangsun felt accomplished as she placed a kiss on his cheek.

The trip to the bookstore turned out to be a lot of fun. Thankfully, her classes didn’t require many books as the students would be expected to read a lot of research articles, so her dad didn’t have to shell out too much money. Yongsun decided to get her parents some SNU paraphernalia as a token of her gratitude.

She had paid for her parents’ gifts and decided to wait for her father in the SNU Café that was connected to the bookstore. Sitting down, she looked around, trying to familiarize herself with the space. In doing so, she caught a glimpse of an icy blonde sitting in the furthest corner of the establishment. The girl wasn’t doing anything special or exciting—she was simply sitting there scrolling on her cell phone—but she looked so **cool**, and that wasn’t a word Yongsun used very often to describe anyone or anything. She had no words for it, but this girl just exuded **cool**. Cool and athletic.

Doing another quick scan of the place, Yongsun checked to see if there was anyone that looked like they were with the girl. It didn’t make sense for her to be in this café on a Thursday afternoon by herself. Then again, maybe she was waiting for someone. That would make more sense.

Eric’s words rang in her head: _“Instead of waiting for others to talk to you, try to be proactive. One person! Just one. Go up to one person and start a conversation with them. You can do that.”_

At the time, she thought he was full of it. In this moment, though, she was strongly considering approaching the girl. When else would everything line up so perfectly?

The universe chose then to remind her of her reality.

“Yongsun-ah, are you ready to go?” Her father had finally finished his purchase and easily found Yongsun at one of the café tables closest to the bookstore exit.

Taking one more quick look at the blonde girl, Yongsun gathered herself and got up to leave. “Yup. I’m ready.”

She enjoyed the final moments with her dad, but as soon as he left, an overwhelming sense of frustration consumed her. Café girl stayed on her mind for the rest of the day. Yongsun never approached people. She never even **thought** of approaching people, yet there she was, contemplating going up to some stranger in a café. What would she even have said to her? Nothing. She hadn’t thought it through.

Grabbing her cell phone, she texted Eric:

**To: Eric**

Screw you and your stupid “be proactive” plan. _6:27 pm_

Promise is off. _6:28 pm_

Yeah, she wasn’t going to be approaching anyone. Forget that.


	7. Athlete or Hair

“You lied to me,” Heeyeon huffed, barely able to get the words out, “You said this was going to be a light workout. This isn’t light.”

Focused on setting up the cones for the next drill, Moonbyul took a few seconds to address her dramatic friend. “This is very light. It’s not even like we’re doing much running, it’s been almost all shooting drills, Heeyeon.”

“Byul, this is hard.”

The senior had originally planned to sleep in this Saturday morning, but instead found herself on the court at 9:00 am. An overzealous Moonbyul had woken her up after rudely barging into her room.

_“Han. Wake up!”_

_“Byul, go away.” Heeyeon pulled her covers further over her head._

_“Come work out with me.”_

_“Absolutely not.” Despite the sleep in her voice, the slightly elder athlete was resolute in her rejection of Moonbyul’s proposition._

_“It won’t even be long. An hour and a half maximum. I promise.”_

_“Byul, it’s the Saturday before classes begin. Let me rest before the chaos starts.”_

_“Exactly. Let’s get a quick skill session in before everything is about fitness and executing plays. It’ll be fun.”_

She’s not sure how it happened, but she had been coaxed out of the apartment. There were many great things about being roommates with Moonbyul. Being dragged along to her masochistic workouts was not one of them. Reluctantly lifting herself from the scorer’s table at midcourt of the sideline, Heeyeon trudged over to the baseline where Moonbyul stood, ready to move on to the next activity.

“We’re almost done, Han. I promise. We have this ball-handling and shooting drill, a few shuttle runs, then we’ll finish up with free throws and,” checking her watch, she proudly added, “we should be out of here by 10:15 am.” Byulyi was beaming.

“How can you be smiling about any of this? That’s sick. You’re sick.”

“Come on. It could have been much worse. I toned everything down. Was originally going to do more.”

“By all means, don’t let me drag you down. Do your thing.” Heeyeon enthusiastically headed for the team seats on the sideline.

Quickly grabbing the senior’s wrist, Moonbyul stopped her roommate. “Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easy. We’re seriously almost done.”

After throwing a mini-tantrum, Heeyeon conceded, “Fine. What are we doing?”

“This one is fun. The court is split vertically in half. On the right half, we’re dribbling two balls, zig-zagging to each cone. First, it’s alternating dribbling both till you hit the first cone, then dribbling both at the same time until the second cone. Turn and go backwards, alternating dribbling both balls to the third cone, then backwards, both balls at the same time to the last cone on the other baseline. Drop one ball and come back on the left side. Three cones spaced out. Dribble to the first cone, ball through both legs, hit a crossover at the cone, explode out to the second cone, hesitation, explode. When approaching the last cone at free-throw line extended, pass the ball to me on the baseline, swim move, hard v-cut, I’ll pass it out. Turn and face, I’ll play soft defense. Make whatever move you want to get past me, get into the paint and score however you want, then I’ll go. Got it?”

It took her about ten seconds to answer, but Heeyeon finally did. “Is it crack? Is that what you smoke? It’s crack, right?” They both burst into laughter at that before Byul restored order.

“I’ll go first. You’ll see that it’s really not that bad. We’ll take turns going. Five times this way, then we’ll turn around and do five the other way. It’ll go by so quickly, I’m telling you.”

Heeyeon wanted to cry. She needed to start locking her bedroom door.

*

As promised, they were done with their session by 10:15 am.

“Told you the workout wouldn’t take too long. And it wasn’t that bad, right?” Moonbyul asked, lounging on the locker room couch.

Heeyeon enclosed a fisted hand in her left, exaggeratedly bowing while responding, “Moonbyul-ssi, it has been a pleasure knowing you. We can go our separate ways in life now.”

“Oh my goodness, why are you so dramatic?”

“Workouts like that are the reason you’re **Moon Byulyi**, highly sought after basketball prodigy. You can continue doing your over-the-top trainings and getting invited to national team camps, let me live my regular college-athlete life. Please and thank you.”

“That makes no sense. You get invited to national team camps, too!” Moonbyul scoffed.

About ten minutes later, they had settled their bickering and were both packed up, ready to leave.

“So . . . food?” Moonbyul asked expectantly.

“You have some nerve. The only food I’m looking forward to is the food you hand-deliver to me as I recover on our couch at home. You know what I like. Make it good.”

At that, Heeyeon parted ways with the icy blonde, heading back to their apartment. Checking her watch, Moonbyul saw that it was 11:00 am. It had taken them a little longer than usual to wash up in the locker room, and she knew that Heeyeon was serious about having food brought to her. Byul had to find food quickly.

Gone was the tranquil campus of summer. Now, with classes beginning in two days’ time, students and families populated every walkway in swarms. Local eateries would be too crowded. She’d normally hit up the SNU Café after a training session, but that would **definitely** be too busy with as many visitors as the bookstore was undoubtedly welcoming. She wondered if this is how the students felt last year when she and other newbies invaded the campus. Either way, her best bet was SNU Commons, or as it was typically referred to, the Commons. It was a decently-sized dining hall about a fifteen-minute walk from University Village and seven from the athletic complex. The floors above housed second-year students, but compared to the other dorms and dining halls that SNU provided, it was one of the oldest. The food was good, staff was great, but students tended to prefer flashier, more recently renovated dining options, usually leaving the Commons less frequented by SNU students. All of these factors combined to make it one of Moonbyul’s favorite spots on campus. If it was as empty as she thought it would be, she could slide in and out in no time. Her phone chirped.

**From: Hee-yawn**

Update on my food? _11:10 am_

**To: Hee-yawn**

You probably **just** got to the apartment. Relax. _11:10 am_

**From: Hee-yawn**

I should’ve been relaxing all morning.

Instead, I was dying. All for your ungrateful ass.

You ain’t shit. _11:11 am_

**To: Hee-yawn**

It’s 11:11! Make a wish. _11:11 am_

I’m getting your food now. _11:11 am_

Should be home in like 15 minutes. _11:12 am_

**From: Hee-yawn**

*10 minutes. You’re jogging back. _11:13 am_

Or speedwalking. Either is acceptable. _11:13 am_

It’ll be a good cool down for you :) _11:14 am_

**To: Hee-yawn**

-_- _11:14 am_

**From: Hee-yawn**

Suffer, whore <3 _11:15 am_

**To: Hee-yawn**

Fair. I deserved that. _11:15 am_

* * *

Yongsun’s first day of graduate school was underwhelming. It technically wasn’t even really her first day. She wasn’t yet sure how to feel about her class schedule, but was at least grateful that she didn’t have to participate in today’s madness. The way things shook out, Yongsun had one class on Tuesdays, and three on Wednesdays, the first starting at 9:00 am. Every class of hers was two hours and fifty minutes long so, yeah, Wednesdays were going to be rough. Focusing on the positives though, she reminded herself that she had no classes five days of the week. That wasn’t too shabby.

While she had no classes of her own on Mondays, the way her financial aid package was set up, there were still responsibilities that came with working as a lecture student. The job description only mentioned assisting a professor with their lectures and working around ten hours each week; the day-to-day specifics would depend on which professor(s) she was assigned to.

Her professor assignment and schedule had been emailed to her earlier that day, and a meeting with said professor had been organized. It was quick, but informative. The College of Education housed several departments, one of which was the Department of Sports Science, where her assigned professor, Kwon Jihun, sometimes taught. He was the Director of Athletic Training at SNU. In addition to overseeing all SNU sports teams and managing the sports medicine staff, he worked directly with the SNU men’s and women’s basketball teams, was an Executive Board member for the Korean Sport & Olympic Committee, and served as the head of Sport Science and Medicine for the Korean Basketball Association—this was the governing body that oversaw the South Korean national team basketball programs. He was a pretty big deal.

As things stood, Kwon Jihun’s class, Athlete Programming and Monitoring, took place on Thursdays from 12:00 pm to 2:50 pm. It was an undergraduate class for mainly junior and senior Sports and Exercise Science majors. Yongsun would spend 2-3 hours on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays helping the professor prepare materials and lesson plans. She’d also help out with grading. With the class being more hands on— students would learn how to create training programs for athletes and track the programs’ effectiveness—he didn’t make her attendance mandatory. That was a call he’d let her make each week depending on how she was feeling. He was a busy man, but her first impression of him was favorable. She felt that they’d get along well.

That was earlier, though. It was now after 9:00 pm and Yongsun didn’t know what to do with herself. After her meeting with Kwon Jihun, she’d walked around campus in search of the buildings that her future classes would be in. She hated feeling unprepared for things and figured this was something she could easily prepare for. That took up about one hour. She then killed 30 minutes at the SNU Café before growing frustrated. Thoughts of the first time she frequented this space came rushing back to her. Since failing to approach the icy blonde that day, Yongsun had seen her once more. She wanted to avoid all of the students and families arriving on Saturday so she found a cozy café off-campus to relax in. During her walk there, she caught a brief glance of Café Girl, who had seemed to be in a rush. Once again, she was alone. Yongsun wondered what her story was. She also wondered if she’d ever see her again. The campus was huge; there were over 16,000 undergraduate students and 11,000 graduate students. The odds of them crossing paths for a third time were slim.

Bringing her out of her head, Yongsun stopped staring at her ceiling long enough to grab her phone that had suddenly started vibrating. It was from Eric.

**From: Eric**

Have a great first day of classes tomorrow! _9:32 pm_

Can’t wait to hear how it goes :) _9:32 pm_

Shooting him a quick reply, Yongsun chuckled recalling their conversation a few days ago.

_“What are you whining about now?”_ _After her text to him last night, Yongsun was expecting this. “’Screw me and my stupid be proactive plan’? What happened?” Eric couldn’t hide the humor in his voice. Yongsun was so strong and could handle so much, but she let the smallest things frustrate her to no end sometimes. He was confident that she was overreacting to something minor. He’d bet money on it._

_“It’s not funny.”_

_“I feel like this story is going to be pretty funny, actually. Did you approach someone and get rejected?”_

_“No.” Eric was confused._

_“That’s the only reason I could think of that would make you send such dramatic texts.” Releasing a heavy sigh, Yongsun shared the details of what took place the previous afternoon. “Wait,” Eric started, “you didn’t even talk to the girl?”_

_“Were you not listening to the story? I didn’t get the chance. My dad called me before I was able to approach her.”_

_“Well, you would’ve been able to approach her if you hadn’t wasted so much time staring at her and thinking about whether you should approach her or not.”_

_“It doesn’t matter now. I won’t see her again, and even if I do, I have nothing to say to her. It’s pointless.”_

_“It’s not pointless. It’s good to get out of your comfort zone every now and then.” At this, Yongsun rolled her eyes. It was easy for him to say this; he wasn’t the one that had to make a fool of himself in front of a stranger. “You said she looked athletic. If you see her again, ask her if she’s an athlete and then go from there. **Or** ask her where she got her hair done. I’d imagine that hair color is hard to maintain. Make up a story about wanting to dye your hair and needing a good stylist. Hmmm, actually, that’s a really good approach. My mind!”_

_“Are you finished or are you done?”_

_“I’m trying to help **you!** One would think you’d be a little more grateful.”_

_“I’m never going to see her again anyway. Just felt the need to let you know that your plan was stupid.”_

_“Your ability to be negative about any and every thing is impressive.” He paused for a moment before dourly adding, “Unfortunately, my lunch is almost up so I gotta head back. We’ll talk later though, okay?”_

_“Yeah, yeah. Tell everyone I said hi.”_

_“Will do, boss lady. Cheer up. You’ll be fine.”_

Eric was such a good friend. Why couldn’t he just follow her to Seoul? That would’ve solved everything.

After returning to her apartment earlier, she plopped onto her bed and fell asleep, missing dinner. Now awake and alert, she needed food. Nervous about her first official class the following day, and inexplicably frustrated about this Café Girl thing, Yongsun decided that she also needed some fresh air. A quick Naver search revealed that the only eatery still open was SNU Commons. It was a bit of a walk from where she lived, but that was exactly what she needed right now.

*

SNU Commons wasn’t half bad. Easy to navigate, a lot of space, a wide variety of food options, and much less crowded than she thought it would be. This could very well end up being her late-night dining spot, not that she needed to make late-night dining a habit.

Making her way through the dining hall with a tray full of food in hand, Yongsun found the perfect spot: a long rectangular table at the very back of the dining hall. Sliding into a seat towards the left end of the table, Yongsun was finally able to relax. She took a deep breath before plugging her headphones in and taking a moment to find the playlist that she was most in the mood for. Not long after choosing her ‘Smooth’ playlist, she looked up to finally dig into her food, but her attention was caught instead by someone dramatically settling into a seat lower down the table.

Discreetly turning towards her right to get a better look at who her new tablemate was, Yongsun’s eyes widened briefly before she returned her attention to her tray. It was Café Girl.

It was as if the universe wouldn’t stop putting the girl in her face until she decided to speak to her.

**To: Eric**

Are you up?! _10:26 pm_

Café Girl is sitting at my table. _10:26 pm_

She **really** needed him to be up right now.

**From: Eric**

I’m up! Talk to her! _10:27 pm_

Remember, athlete or hair. Talk about one! _10:28 pm_

**To: Eric**

Okay! Athlete or hair. Got it. _10:28 pm_

Why was her heart rate picking up like this? It was ridiculous. There was no reason for some strange girl to make her this nervous. She looked back at the girl, more like stared. And stared. It was a wonder the icy blonde hadn’t yet turned to look at her. Just as she was about to turn away for good, Yongsun noticed the girl’s shirt.

She now stared with purpose, as if willing Café Girl to look up from her phone and make eye contact. After a solid minute, the girl looked up. Yongsun pointed at the blonde’s shirt, eyebrows scrunched. Café Girl looked around before removing her headphones.

“Were you pointing at me?” Café Girl asked. She was seated facing Yongsun, but about six or seven seats down the table.

“Yeah,” Yongsun nervously responded. “Your shirt. Did you go to SKKU?”

Café Girl placed her phone and headphones in one of her pockets before grabbing her tray and walking closer to the brunette. Setting the tray right in front of Yongsun, the blonde sat down. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you properly. What were you saying?”

Taking a moment to compose herself, Yongsun asked again, “Did you go to SKKU? Your shirt, it has SKKU on it, so I was wondering if you went to school there.”

Realization finally dawned on Café Girl. “Oh! No!” She laughed lightly. “We were part of a tournament that they hosted last year. Every team got SKKU t-shirts and a few other things.”

“The Han-Il College Basketball Tournament?!”

Café Girl seemed slightly surprised by her new acquaintance’s level of excitement over all of this, but she quickly recovered. “Yeah. You know it?”

“I used to work at SKKU! I remember the tournament, but was assigned to another event at the time, so I missed everything. That’s funny, though, that you’re wearing that shirt today of all days.”

“Whoa. That is pretty wild. What are the odds, right?”

“Yeah.”

They both stayed quiet for a bit, avoiding eye contact. Neither was sure how to keep the conversation going, but both knew that they wanted it to.

“Um, so you worked at SKKU?”

“Yeah,” Yongsun responded, dragging the word out. She decided she should say more. It would be awkward to not say more. “I went to school there. After graduating, I worked in Marketing.” Café Girl’s mouth dropped open.

“After graduating?! Not to be rude, but what year are you? I thought you were a first- or second-year.”

“First- or second-year? Do I look that young?” Café Girl’s cheeks turned slightly pink. She gently rubbed her neck with her right hand, a small smile reaching her face.

“You do look pretty young,” she nervously responded. “Your cheeks are so chubby.”

“Yah! We just met and you’re already making fun of my cheeks! Rude.” An exaggerated pout on her face, Yongsun playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m hurt.”

“I’m sorry! I really didn’t know! I didn’t mean to offend you.” Café Girl’s cheeks were turning bright red now. Yongsun was enjoying messing with her, but decided to put her out of her misery.

“I’m joking. I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world to look young.”

“Yeah!” The blonde was quick to agree, happy that the brunette wasn’t really upset at her. “It’s not a bad thing at all. You’ll look young forever. Everyone wants that,” she let out a relieved sigh. “I’m Moon Byulyi by the way.” She quickly stood up to give Yongsun a full 90 degree bow. It was a bit excessive, but Yongsun found it cute.

Standing up to return the bow, Yongsun introduced herself, too. “Kim Yongsun. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Yongsun-ssi,” Moonbyul offered with a crooked smile.

“Please no. You don’t have to be so formal. That’s awkward.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to disrespect you again.”

“I promise, it’s fine.”

Taking it all in, Moonbyul nodded her head. “You can call me Moonbyul if you want. Or Byulyi. Or whatever. I don’t really mind.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

To occupy her hands, Yongsun started picking at her barely touched food. She noticed Moonbyul copying her actions, moving some of her food around her own tray. Things were getting awkward again.

“Uh, so . . . what year were you born?”

“’92. You?”

“’91. I’m only one year older. That’s not that bad.”

“Not at all.”

A few moments passed before Yongsun spoke up. “This is so awkward,” she had to get that off her chest.

“Okay, I thought I was the only one. I ran out of things to say and didn’t know how to keep the conversation going,” Moonbyul confessed. “I’m usually so much better at this,” she said, mostly to herself, but loud enough for Yongsun to hear.

“Better at what? Talking to girls?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. Not like that. Just, like, in general. Not like **that**.” Yongsun was truly surprised that Café Girl turned out to be this easily flustered ball of nerves. She had originally thought the girl would be colder and/or smoother. This version was much more fun to mess with though.

“Why not like **that**? I’m not cute enough to talk to like **that**?” Yongsun asked with an eyebrow raised.

“What? No, I didn’t mean that at all. That’s not what I was trying to say.” She tapped her head a few times before sighing and speaking again. “I really don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

Yongsun giggled. “It’s okay. I can relate. When you sat down earlier, my brain completely shut down. I had no idea how to start a conversation with you, so I get it.” Why the hell did she say that? A confident grin slowly grew on Moonbyul’s face.

“Ohhhh, so you wanted to talk to me ever since I sat down,” she smirked. “That’s cute.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Yongsun rolled her eyes.

“I don’t have to when such a pretty lady is flattering me instead.”

“Ew! Where did this come from?” Yongsun couldn’t help but laugh at Moonbyul’s antics. Not even a minute ago she was a babbling mess, now she was a confident smooth talker.

“Pretty girls bring it out of me.”

Yongsun scoffed, astonished at all of this. “That was gross. Are you always this greasy?”

The atmosphere of awkwardness slowly dissipated as they continued their conversation. They bantered back and forth, but also got to know each other a bit better. Things flowed naturally. Yongsun learned that Moonbyul was a junior studying Business Administration. She had two younger sisters, wasn’t a fan of roller coasters, and always used two as her jersey number in basketball because it was her favorite. They didn’t stop until noticing the dining hall workers cleaning up around them and placing the plastic seats onto the tables.

“Oh wow,” Moonbyul exclaimed, taking a moment to check her phone, “it’s midnight. They’re closing.”

“It didn’t feel like that much time passed.”

“Talking to me usually does that to people,” Moonbyul bragged, wagging her eyebrows.

“You seriously don’t stop,” Yongsun laughed out loud.

“Where do you live,” the athlete suddenly asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Where do you live? I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.” Moonbyul grabbed Yongsun’s tray, combining it with her own before answering.

“I insist. You stayed out this late talking to me. It’s the least I could do as a thank you for the good company. Plus, I don’t feel comfortable having you walk around this late all by yourself.” Yongsun found the earnestness in her voice touching. “I promise I’m not a stalker or anything. And you know I’m on the basketball team, so if anything happens, you know where to find me.” Moonbyul offered a small smile, hoping that helped make Yongsun feel more at ease.

“University Village,” the eldest responded, standing up as she did so.

“You’re joking, right?” Moonbyul was still sitting, both hands on the trays in front of her.

“Why would I be joking?” Yongsun didn’t understand why she’d joke about something like that. She didn’t know enough about housing on or around campus to joke about something like that.

“I live in Universtiy Village,” Moonbyul responded, finally standing up with her things, heading towards the tray disposal. Yongsun shuffled her feet to catch up.

“Seriously? Whoa. What are the odds?” Having finished depositing everything, Moonbyul turned to Yongsun.

“Which tower are you in, and which floor?”

“Second tower, third floor.”

“Get out! I live in the second tower on the third floor, too. This is freaky.” They reached the building’s exit. “After you,” Moonbyul offered.

Yongsun took a moment to take in the beautiful night. Today turned out much better than she ever could have imagined. “I can’t believe this. This is one of the wildest coincidences I’ve ever experienced.”

“Maybe it’s not a coincidence, maybe it’s fate,” Moonbyul casually stated.

“Why are you like this? You’re so annoying!”

They both let out strong laughs at that, falling back into comfortable conversation afterwards. The walk back to University Village seemed to take no time at all. Finally reaching their building, they strolled past the security guards in the lobby—both of whom greeted Moonbyul by name—before scanning their IDs to enter the elevator. The ride was quiet. Once they reached the third floor, both hovered near the elevator, neither willing to end the night or sure of how to do it.

“My room is that way,” Moonbyul pointed to her left.

“I’m at the other end.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Neither of them made a move to leave.

“Can I have your number?” Moonbyul asked. Yongsun’s slightly flustered reaction urged her to add more context. “So that we could hang out again or whatever. It was a lot of fun talking with you, and campus is so big, y’know? We live on the same floor, but still may not bump into each other again. I wanted to at least make sure we had a way to communicate. If . . . that’s . . . something you wanted, of course. Only if you want.”

“You ramble a lot.”

“I really don’t,” Moonbyul chuckled, “I don’t know what it is about you that’s making me act so weird.”

“So it’s my fault that you’re acting weird?”

“Of course that’s what you would take from all of that,” Moonbyul rolled her eyes. “Here. Put your number in my phone.” Yongsun took the phone that was offered to her. Once she was finished saving her contact, she handed it back to Moonbyul.

“Here you go. I look forward to the text you send me months from now when you remember my existence.”

“That’s funny. You can look forward to my text **tonig**—uh, I mean this morning,” she corrected herself. Checking her phone, Yongsun saw the time.

“What time do you have class today?”

“9:30 am,” Moonbyul answered.

“Oh my goodness! Go to sleep. It’s already 12:30 am.” Yongsun playfully pushed Moonbyul in the direction of her room. “You should have said something!”

“It’s fine. I promise. I’ll be okay. Anyway, do you think you’ll be able to make it safely to your room? I feel like I need to walk you all the way. You know, to make sure you reach in one piece.” Yongsun rolled her eyes.

“Wow, who said chivalry was dead,” she dryly responded. “I think I can manage making it to the end of the hallway though.”

“Okay, I’ll stand here and make sure.” She shooed Yongsun away. “Go on. You need sleep. What time is your first class?”

“10:00 am.”

“I was going to say we could walk to campus together, but I’ll be gone by the time you’re heading over. I’ll text you and we can figure out some time to grab lunch or dinner?”

The way she phrased that as a question was adorable. Confident, smooth talking Moonbyul had suddenly vanished.

“That would be nice, yeah.” Yongsun turned to head to her room. Halfway down the hallway, she yelled back, “Don’t forget to text me!”

“I could never forget,” Moonbyul shouted back. “Goodnight!”

“Night.”

Truthfully, Yongsun was exhausted. She did an expedited version of her nightly routine before hopping into bed. Grabbing the phone that she had thrown near her pillow earlier, she got under her covers and saw a new text message.

**From: Maybe Moon Byulyi**

Hi! It’s Moon Byulyi (or Moonbyul, or Byulyi, or whatever you want) _1:02 am_

It was really great meeting you tonight. I hope we hang out again. _1:02 am_

Preferably some time soon :) _1:03 am_

Have a good night and sleep well! _1:03 am_

Yongsun couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. As she went to respond, another text came in.

**From: Maybe Moon Byulyi**

Save my number. _1:05 am_

Please. _1:05 am_

**To: Moon Byulyi**

Number saved. _1:06 am_

I enjoyed our time together, too. Looking forward to hanging out again. _1:07 am_

Please go to sleep. You have to be up early. Sleep well :) _1:08 am_

She sent one last message before putting her phone on her nightstand and heading to bed.

**To: Eric**

Fine. Maybe your stupid plan wasn’t all that stupid *rolls eyes* _1:11 am_


	8. The Brunette

“Where were you last night?”

“I told you I was heading to the Commons to get a late-night meal.”

“Yeah, you said you weren’t staying long and that you’d be back soon . . . and then it was midnight and you still weren’t back.”

Moonbyul did, in fact, tell Heeyeon that she was making a quick run to the Commons. To be fair, she thought it’d be quick. She never expected to end up in an hours-long conversation with a stranger. Byulyi couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the encounter with Yongsun the night before. It was pretty awkward in the beginning. She—Byulyi—was awkward in the beginning, but playing the full conversation back in her head, she thinks she got it together. She got the grad student’s number, so she couldn’t have done too poorly.

“What are you smiling about?” Heeyeon’s question brought Byulyi out of her thoughts.

“It’s a crime to smile now?” She’s not sure why, but she didn’t feel like telling Heeyeon about Yongsun. Her teammate would probably make a joke about Byulyi hooking up with the first-year master’s student, and she wasn’t in the mood for that at all.

“It’s not a crime, but it’s the second day of school, it’s hot as hell, and we’re walking to a 9:30 am class. It’s pretty shitty. Not much to be happy about.”

“You’re just like this because you hate the mornings. At least be happy we didn’t have to lift today before class. Once mandatory weight training sessions start, you’re going to wish you could go back to days like this.” Heeyeon sucked her teeth and walked faster, leaving Byulyi behind.

Moments like **this** made everything better for Moonbyul. Heeyeon was right. The walk from University Village to the building that their class was in was a long one. There wasn’t much fun about it. Studying Business Administration was difficult. The program was one of the mot rigorous in the country and balancing her studies with basketball was **tough**, but having Heeyeon by her side through it all helped ease the stress. Byulyi couldn’t imagine what she’d do once her partner in crime graduated this year.

She’d worry about that later though. Yelling for Heeyeon to wait for her, Byulyi jogged ahead to catch up to her cranky roommate.

*

“Unnie, why didn’t you get more of this? You know I like this a lot.”

“Because I got food for **myself**, Hyejin. If you want an entire tray of food that’s to your liking, you can buy it. The stall is literally right there.”

The Food Court in the Student Center was always too busy for Byulyi’s liking during the school year, yet she found herself here during the day anyway because of her schedule. She had one hour to kill before her next class and it would take too much time to head back to her apartment. By the time she’d get there, she’d have to turn right back around and head to class. So here she was, at the busiest time of day, dealing with Hyejin eating all of her food.

“Don’t get cranky. I’m doing you a favor. **You** texted **me** asking if I wanted to get lunch. I was planning on staying home all day and sleeping because I have no classes today.” Moonbyul sighed.

“You’d do that even if you did have classes.” Hyejin vigorously shook her head as her mouth was full of more of Moonbyul’s food.

“Mm mm,” she disagreed, “I’m taking my studies more seriously this year.” At Byulyi’s skeptical eyebrow raise, Hyejin further defended herself. “I swear! I even went to class yesterday.”

“I’d hope so, it was the first day.” Hyejn’s face deflated a bit at that response. She’d thought that was a big step in the right direction. Moonbyul hated seeing the younger girl sad, especially as a result of something she had said or done. She quickly backtracked her previous statement. “Then again, the first class is the easiest to miss because the professors only go over the syllabus, so you’re right, the fact that you went is a big deal.” Hyejin gained some of her earlier enthusiasm back.

“That’s what I thought, too! It will be a fun class. _Persuasive Communication_. The professor is very charismatic and the content is interesting. I may need your help often this semester though.” At that, Moonbyul’s ears perked up.

“Eh? Me? For what?”

“What does your schedule look like? Wheein’s in classes almost every day from morning to late afternoon, so I have no one to spend my one-hour break with on Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“What time is your break on those days?”

“On both days it’s 1:00 pm to 2:00 pm.” Quickly checking her schedule, Byulyi responded.

“Oh! That works perfectly. I’m free at that time both days. What about on Fridays? I don’t have class, but if you do, I’d still meet you.” Hyejin reached across the table to caress Moonbyul’s face, her long nails gently scratching the icy blonde’s skin. It felt good.

“That’s so sweet, unnie,” she abruptly let go of Byulyi’s face before continuing, "but Wheein doesn’t have class on Fridays, so I’ll hang out with her.”

“Yah! So you’re just using me because Wheein isn’t available? You can find someone else to spend your breaks with.” Hyejin watched her elder sitting there pouting with her arms crossed across her chest. How was she so cute?

“Don’t be so dramatic. Of course you’re welcome to join us, I just didn’t want to burden you every day.”

“Whatever.”

“You’re so cute! If only all the girls at school knew you were this adorable. They’d be after you even more than they already are.”

Just then, Moonbyul sat up in her seat. Across the seating area, she saw a brunette that resembled Yongsun enter the section of the Food Court all of the food stalls were. Without a second thought, she stood up from her seat. Eyes on the entrance to the stalls, Byulyi distractedly pushed her tray to Hyejin. “You can have the rest. I’m going to buy more.”

“Finally,” Hyejin heaved a sigh of relief. “I was wondering how long it would take before you gave me the food.” As Moonbyul walked away, she yelled to the athlete, “And get another serving of the noodles I like!”

Entering the food stall section, Moonbyul immediately began searching for the brunette she had seen walk in. There was only one exit, so she would have seen if the girl had left. Just as she spotted the brunette, another girl walked up and started a conversation with the athlete. “Hi!” the girl excitedly greeted Moonbyul.

“Ah, hi,” she responded, her eyes still on the brunette. Not wanting to be rude, though, she gave the girl a smile.

“Sorry for bothering you, but are you in _Tech and Opportunities_? I feel like I saw you in the back of that class yesterday, but I wasn’t sure.” That class had only about 20 people in it. Moonbyul knew for a fact that this girl was sure that she was in the class. Still, she didn’t want to make the girl feel bad.

“A pretty girl like you could never be a bother.” She made sure to add her signature smirk. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what the girl said or did after that because she focused instead on the brunette who had finally turned around. It wasn’t Yongsun.

Disappointment flooded her.

Realizing the person in front of her was still talking, she gently placed a hand on the girl’s upper arm. “I’m so sorry for cutting our talk short, but I have class in a little bit and haven’t eaten all day. Do you mind if I grab something real quick?” The girl blushed.

“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Moonbyul’s hand was still on the girl. In an attempt to ease her distress, she began rubbing her thumb back and forth.

“Don’t worry about it,” she responded smoothly. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Song Dahae.”

“That’s a lovely name. I’m Moon Byulyi. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m going to get some food, but I hope to see you in class next week. Definitely say hi, okay?” Dahae giggled.

“Okay. I will.”

“You better. Bye, Dahae-ssi.” Dahae waved.

Minutes later, Moonbyul returned dejectedly to the table she shared with Hyejin. The younger looked up from her cell phone.

“What took you so long? I was hungry.”

“You finished off an entire tray of food.”

“Oh, so you’re the only one allowed to eat nonstop?” Hyejin raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Moonbyul. The latter knew she needed to tread carefully.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Here are your noodles.”

“You’re the best, unnie!” Hyejin clapped excitedly. “Why are you down, by the way. Don’t think I wouldn’t notice.”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so.”

The rest of her day was packed. Her class after lunch didn’t end until 5:00 pm, and then she had to hit the weight room until 7:30 pm. She didn’t leave the athletic complex until 8:15 pm, her mood sour from the long day, but mostly from the fact that the brunette from earlier ended up not being Yongsun.

Checking her phone for the umpteenth time that day, she saw no messages from the grad student. Deciding to be proactive about initiating communication, she sent the girl a text, a smile forming at the name Yongsun had saved her number under.

**To: Kim Yongsun-unnie**

Hi! It’s Moon Byulyi. _8:17 pm_

We met yesterday at the Commons. _8:17 pm_

Not sure what you’re up to, but I’m heading to the Commons again for dinner. Wanted to know if you wanted to join me? _8:18 pm_

It was very possible that Yongsun didn’t want to spend more time than necessary with her. Why would a graduate student want to hang out with an undergrad? Moonbyul regretted opening herself up to rejection like this. Her phone buzzed.

**From: Kim Yongsun-unnie**

Hi, Byulyi. I have your name and number saved. _8:20 pm_

Dinner sounds great, actually! What time? _8:20 pm_

**To: Kim Yongsun-unnie**

Now? _8:20 pm_

Sorry for the late notice. I left the gym and needed dinner then I thought of you. _8:21 pm_

Why hadn’t she just texted her earlier and asked to meet up for dinner?! Moonbyul was frustrated with herself.

**From: Kim Yongsun-unnie**

No worries!_ 8:22 pm_

I’m at my apartment so it’ll take me a while to reach. _8:23 pm_

Save me a seat! _8:23 pm_

She was so cute. Moonbyul had to smile at her response.

**To: Kim Yongsun-unnie**

Of course :) _8:24 pm_

See you soon, unnie. Be careful on the walk over. _8:24 pm_

Suddenly her day wasn’t so bad.


	9. Just Friends?

The late-night dinners continued. Became a custom, actually.

Hesitant, unsure “Would you like to get dinner?” text messages evolved into “Let’s do x pm tonight?” messages, which easily transitioned into “I have so much to tell you later” messages. It had only been one month since their first meal together, but Yongsun and Moonbyul had grown close. They reached the point where they texted every day from morning to night and when they met up, they talked about almost any and every thing. Almost, because although they were both aware of it, neither addressed the fact that they only met up for dinner at the Commons from Monday to Thursday—never for lunch, never at one of their apartments. They communicated via text during the weekend, but never made strides to actually hang out. That was another level of friendship that neither was sure they had unlocked yet.

It was a Friday afternoon in late September. As had become their routine, Wheein and Moonbyul joined Hyejin for lunch at the Food Court before her class at 2:00 pm. They sat at their usual table near the entrance to the food stalls, in their usual seats. The ’95 liners faced the stairs that led all visitors from the first floor of the Student Center to the second where the Food Court was located. Moonbyul sat across from them, her back to the stairs.

For the past five minutes, Wheein had been passionately explaining why it was she disagreed with her _History of Modern and Contemporary Western Art_ professor on the significance of hip-hop.

“He’s completely fine with acknowledging Jean-Michel Basquiat as the genius that he is, but denies the importance of the role that Basquiat’s environment played in cultivating that genius. You can’t do that! It doesn’t make sense. All the inequalities that Basquiat used his art to critique were also being discussed in early hip-hop. Do you think he wasn’t influenced by that at all?!”

“Ohhhh. Good point, Wheein,” Hyejin cooed as she stealthily stole more food from Moonbyul’s tray. Her unnie’s glare did nothing to dissuade her.

“That’s what I thought, too! I said this in class and the professor completely shut me down. He didn’t even provide a counterpoint, just ignored everything I said and moved on to something else.”

“How dare he?”

“Right?! I was so upset for the rest of the class that I thought seriously about just walking out. He is so rude! And how are you a professor about Western art but know nothing about the context in which Western art was created?! That seriously makes no sense.”

“Mmm, none at all.”

Despite her annoyance with Hyejin stealing her food yet again, a snort escaped Moonbyul. Anyone with eyes and ears could tell that Hyejin was paying no attention to anything Wheein was saying. She had, however, mastered the art of offering well-timed statements of reassurance for her childhood best friend. Hyejin looked up from the tray full of food she stole from Moonbyul and mimed at the basketball player to be quiet before Wheein noticed her laughing. It was too late for that though.

“Is something funny, unnie?” The tone that the short-haired sophomore used alerted Moonbyul to the fact that Wheein was **not** in the mood for jokes right now. The correct answer to the question was no, so Moonbyul said no.

“Uhhh, no.”

“So what were you laughing at?” Wheein asked, furrowing her brows and staring daggers at Moonbyul. The latter looked to Hyejin for help, but the youngest discreetly shook her head before once again directing all of her attention to the tray of food in front of her. Looking back at Wheein, Moonbyul sighed. She’d have to sweet talk her way out of this one.

“I was . . . laughing . . . because . . . I, uh, couldn’t understand how someone could be so cute while upset?” She thought she did a decent job of pulling that together. Wheein stared at her for a few beats before speaking again.

“You’re gross.”

“Sorry.”

Luckily, Wheein’s annoyance with her faded and turned into annoyance with something else. A few more minutes passed before Moonbyul saw a brunette briskly walk past her table. Unlike a month ago, she was certain this time around that it was Yongsun.

“Yongsun-unnie!” It was relatively crowded in the seating area, but Moonbyul made sure to raise her voice loud enough to combat that.

The girl came to a sudden halt, aimlessly looking around for where the shout had come from. Moonbyul shot out of her seat to meet her confused friend. She approached from behind, placing her left hand on the grad student’s lower back before snaking her way to in front of Yongsun.

“Hey!” Moonbyul greeted enthusiastically. Yongsun let out a sigh of relief as she placed a hand on her chest.

“Oh, it’s you. I was so nervous. I had no idea who could be calling my name in this place. What’s wrong with you!” At that, fists began raining on Moonbyul’s shoulder.

“Ah, unnie, stop. That hurts,” Moonbyul laughed.

“I was so scared.” She knew she shouldn’t, but with the way Yongsun was pouting, Moonbyul couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re so cute,” she responded adoringly. More fists connected with her shoulder. “Yah! Stop that.”

“Who are you talking to like that? Remember that I’m older than you.” Moonbyul suddenly descended into a deep bow.

“My apologies, ajumoni. You are correct. I will have more respect for my elders from now on. Please forgive me.”

“Clown.”

Yongsun rolled her eyes before brushing past the still-bowing athlete. Moonbyul took a few more seconds to laugh at everything that had taken place. In the month that they had known each other, she had irritated Yongsun more times than she could count. She was just as good, though, at digging herself out of self‑created holes and getting back on her unnie’s good side. Yongsun hadn’t covered much distance since abruptly walking away from her, so she jogged lightly to catch up, hugging the brunette from behind and swaying her from side to side.

“Don’t be mad, unnie. It was a joke. You’re not old. You’re young and cute.” Her right hand left from around Yongsun’s waist to poke the brunette’s right cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said, turning Yongsun around to face her. Lowering her head to stare sincerely into a pair of dark brown eyes, she repeated, “I’m sorry.” Just as Yongsun seemed to be warming back up to her, Moonbyul poked her nose.

“Yah. Get off of me. You always have to ruin everything.” A new fit of laughs erupted from Moonbyul. Tired of standing, the basketball player found an empty table nearby to sit on. Yongsun followed.

“Why are you here anyway? I thought you worked from 12:00 pm to 2:00 pm on Fridays.”

“I do, but I hadn’t had lunch yet and Kwon Jihun sunbaenim didn’t have much for me to do, so he gave me an hour for lunch.”

“He’s a cool guy,” Moonbyul added. She was familiar with Kwon Jihun not only because of her being a basketball player at SNU, but also due to her participation with the Korean Women’s National Basketball Team. He was a tremendous help when it came to balancing her university and national team duties, specifically managing training and nutrition. “Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were getting lunch? We could’ve eaten together.”

“We never get lunch, so I assumed you already had plans.”

“So? You could always join. I’m here with a couple of friends now, do you want to join us?”

“It’s okay,” Yongsun refused, “I’m actually supposed to be meeting a couple people here.” The surprise at that must have been evident on Moonbyul’s face because Yongsun further clarified, “Some of my classmates. They’ve been inviting me out a lot, so we’ve been hanging out here and there. I mentioned lunch to them and they said they’d be here, so . . . here I am.”

“Ohhhh. And here I am talking your ear off. Do you see them anywhere?” Yongsun took that opportunity to search the Food Court for her fellow graduate students.

“Ah! Yes! They’re over there.” Following the direction of the pointed finger Yongsun had extended, Moonbyul saw a dark-haired guy and girl sitting at a table not too far off. The former waved his arms frantically to get Yongsun’s attention, while the latter eyed her cautiously.

“Mmm. Okay, I’ll let you go then. Talk to you later though?” she asked optimistically while pushing off of the table.

“Of course. I’ll text you.”

“Cool. Make sure to walk safely to the table.”

“Shut up. You’re so annoying.” They shared a couple giggles before going their separate ways.

*

“Who was that?” Hyejin was never one to beat around the bush.

“A friend.”

“Everyone’s a friend until they’re not.”

“Well.”

“Is that the girl you eat with every day at the Commons?” Wheein decided to chime in.

“Wait, what? She eats at the Commons every day with some girl?”

“Yeah, that’s what I heard.”

“Why didn’t you mention it before?”

“I only heard about it a couple days ago during _Archery_.”

“How exactly did that happen?”

“One of my classmates came up to me during warmups and asked me if Byulyi‑unnie was dating someone. I asked her why she was asking, and she said because she lives in Commons and whenever she goes down to the dining hall for dinner, she sees unnie with a brown-haired girl.”

“Is that true, unnie?”

For the first time in that entire exchange, Wheein and Hyejin allowed Moonbyul a moment to speak. And she had no idea what to say.

“Uhh . . .”

“So you **are** dating her?! And you didn’t tell us?!” Hyejin was devastated.

“I’m not dating her!” Moonbyul defended herself from these rumors. She looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. Stories about her and her personal life always seemed to take on a life of their own. “We’re just friends. I swear.”

“You looked a lot closer than friends during your little chat.”

“Hyejin, come on. Stop. We’re just friends.”

“Is that your doing or hers? Because you looked super into it.” Moonbyul scoffed.

“Are you serious right now? Wheein, please tell her she’s being ridiculous.” When Wheein didn’t immediately jump in to save her, the blonde looked up to see her friend’s lower lip trapped between her teeth, face pensive.

“Unnie. The two of you **did** look really close,” she reluctantly admitted.

“Not you, too, Wheein-ah.”

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

“Well, we’re just friends. It’s really not like that with her. At all.”

“You say that like it’s unfathomable. She’s cute. Very cute. That’s your type, isn’t it?” Hyejin took a sip of her drink, eyes assessing Moonbyul.

“Can you stop staring at me like that, please? And I didn’t know cute was my type.”

“It’s definitely your type,” Wheein added.

“You two are ridiculous. Yongsun-unnie and I are just friends.” Hyejin continued to eye Moonbyul speculatively before a mischievous smile slowly crept onto her face.

“You don’t know if she likes girls or not.”

“Ohhhhh,” Wheein joined in.

“So? What’s your point?” Moonbyul asked defensively.

“You’re not making a move because even though you like her, you don’t know if she’d be into you or not.”

“Hyejin, your mind!”

“No. Not her mind. She’s not right. Unnie is my friend. That’s it. I’m allowed to have friends that are simply friends.”

“You are,” Wheein agreed, “except, other than your teammates and me and Hyejin, there are no women that you’re simply friends with.”

“Until now. Her name is Kim Yongsun. I’m done talking about this, by the way.”

“Boooo. You’re no fun, unnie,” Hyejin whined, cheeks puffed out.

* * *

“I’m going to get some food. Yongsun, you want tteokbokki, right?” She nodded in the affirmative. “Cool. Chorong, what about you?” The latter answered, eyes still glued to Yongsun’s face.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, Changsub.”

“Got it.”

“Thank you, Changsub,” Yongsun added softly before he walked away. Chorong staring at her was slightly uncomfortable, but she figured the girl would say what she needed to say when she was ready. In the meantime, she scrolled through her email on her phone.

Unlike with Moonbyul, Yongsun had become acquainted with these two by them approaching her first. It was the wildest coincidence. They were all ’91 liners that took a year off before attending graduate school, and all three studied Educational Counseling. After a week of seeing each other in every class, Changsub approached her, asking if she wanted to join him and his friend for a late lunch. She had declined the first invitation, but he was persistent. Eventually, her resistance was worn down.

Changsub and Chorong had both attended SNU as undergraduate students. They grew close during their four years together, gradually adding more members to their “‘91 Club,” but they were all guys. It never worked out with any of the girls that they approached. Changsub felt bad for Chorong initially, but she later joined a sorority, so he felt comfort in the fact that she had female friends.

Watching Yongsun always by herself during the first week of classes made the Cs feel for the brunette. They both agreed that it was worth a try to bring her in to their friend group. Neither of them had regretted the decision since. Yongsun was introverted—similar to Chorong—, but there was an edge to her that gradually became revealed to the Cs as they spent more time with her. She was pleasant and kind, but also sarcastic and very honest. They enjoyed hanging out with her during the week for lunch and were ecstatic when she’d accept their invitations to go out on weekends with the rest of their crew. She fit in perfectly. Everyone loved her.

“How do you know Moon Byulyi?” Chorong’s face had softened from the hard expression she wore earlier. It encouraged Yongsun to swallow the sarcastic remark she had ready. She had a feeling that Chorong’s sour mood had to do with Moonbyul and she didn’t like the idea of her same-year friend harboring hostility towards the basketball player.

“We’re friends.”

“Just friends?” Yongsun’s mouth fell open at that before scoffing. “I’m just trying to look out for you. Be careful with her.”

“Noted. What’s your issue with her?”

“I don’t know her personally; I wasn’t around last year when she got here. From what I’ve heard from my sorority sisters, though, she’s a big-time athlete that’s unbelievably charming. That’s a dangerous combination. She talks to every girl like they’re the only girl in the world and when they fall for her, she acts confused as to how that happened. Be careful with her, Yongsun.”

Changsub chose that moment to rejoin their group. “What are you two talking so seriously about?” he asked as he carefully placed all of the food he bought down on the table.

“Moon Byulyi,” Chorong replied tautly.

“Ohhh, the ladykiller! I hear she gets all the girls. Do you know her, Yongsun? The two of you were talking for a while. You looked close.”

“I know her, yeah,” Yongsung answered in a subdued manner.

“Nice! Could you ask her to give me some tips on how she does it?” Changsub was never great at reading a room. “Actually,” he drawled out, “I’ll ask her myself.”

Chorong’s eyes were no longer on her, but on something behind her. Changsub was doing the same. Before she could turn around to check out what was attracting their attention, a uniquely deep voice directly behind her made Yongsun pause.

“Unnie.” Yongsun turned to face the supposed ladykiller her friends were just discussing.

“What’s up, Byulyi?”

“Sorry to interrupt. Oh.” She acknowledged Chorong and Changsub by giving them quick bows before introducing herself. “I’m Moon Byulyi, nice to meet you. Again, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I needed to ask Yongsun-unnie something real quickly."

Chorong stared at her blankly, while Changsub smiled cordially at her. “Don’t worry about it,” he kindly reassured her.

“Cool, thanks.” Moonbyul took the empty seat next to Yongsun. “Uh, my friends are upset that I haven’t introduced you to them, so they sent me over to invite you to hang out with us tonight. Nothing big, just the group of us eating, drinking, and talking. There’ll probably be more drinking than usual though. My days of freedom are winding down.”

“I forgot official practices start for you on Monday,” the brunette rolled her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I need support in difficult times like this, unnie.”

“Anyway! Text me where the get-together is happening and what I should bring.”

“No need for a text. It’s happening at my place tonight at 8:00 pm. You only need to bring this pretty face of yours.” Moonbyul reached over to gently grab Yongsun’s chin.

“Yah!” Yongsun slapped Moonbyul’s hand away. “What is wrong with you? Why are you like this?” She was met only with Moonbyul’s hearty laughs.

“It’s because of your reactions! I can’t help it. It’s so easy to get you to react, unnie.” A moment later, she stood up, “I’m heading to the gym now. Gotta go lift. Text me, okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Perfect. It was nice to meet you both,” she bowed once more towards Chorong and Changsub before leaving.

Their table became engulfed in silence.

“I get it now. I fully understand why girls flock to her. She’s so smooth. Moon Byulyi is a legend. Yongsun, how can I become friends with her? I need her to teach me.”

“Shut up, Changsub,” both Chorong and Yongsun responded in unison.


	10. Off Limits

“Unnie, is your friend still coming? I’m hungry!”

“Hyejin-ah, it’s not even 8:00 pm yet. The two of you came early. Whose fault is that?” Moonbyul closed the fridge with one of her feet as she balanced bottles of soju and cans of beer in her arms.

“It’s no one’s fault,” Hyejin responded softly as she cuddled further into Wheein. The two were seated on the couch in Moonbyul and Heeyeon’s living room, making no move to provide assistance to their unnie as she struggled with the drinks. “We just love you so much, we got here early to spend more time with you.”

“You love me so much, yet the two of you couldn’t be bothered to help me carry the drinks that **you both** are going to demolish. Sounds fake.”

“You’re a world-class athlete! You run and lift and . . . do whatever it is that you do. Carrying a few bottles of drinks from the refrigerator to the table a few meters away should be a breeze.”

“Really, Wheein? ‘Whatever it is that I do’?” Moonbyul had settled the drinks on the small table between the couch and the television. She dramatically threw herself onto Hyejin and Wheein, her legs sprawled out on the former, while her head lay in the latter’s lap. Neither made a fuss; they were all accustomed to being physically close. Wheein began running her fingers through Moonbyul’s blonde locks.

“I don’t know the specifics, I only know that you’re the star and you win games. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“Unnie, you need to touch up your roots. Your hair is looking rough.”

“I know,” she calmly responded to Hyejin. Her eyes were closed as she enjoyed Wheein’s fingers in her hair. “I made an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. As for you, Wheein, I’m not the star. We’re a team, we all do our part.”

A bedroom door could be heard closing. Moments later, Heeyeon stepped into the living room. “Our Byulyi is so humble! ‘We’re a team, we all do our part.’ I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re yelling at me to give you the ball during a game.” If Moonbyul’s eyes were open, she would have rolled them.

“Lie again. If anything, I’m usually telling you to **come get the ball**, but you never listen and end up completely messing up the play.”

“Well, maybe if you spoke up, I’d be able to hear what you were asking for. I heard you’re very direct and assertive in the bedroom. Try bringing some of that to the court.”

“You want me to have sex on the basketball court? Not sure Coach would appreciate that, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Smartass.” She walked over to the table in front of the three younger girls and opened the food containers. “What’s the special occasion? Pizza **and** chicken. You’re going all out tonight, huh?”

“Heeyeon-unnie, you’re not joining us tonight? We’re meeting Byul-unnie’s secret girlfriend.”

“Secret who?!” The blonde abruptly sat up, a look of shock on her face. Wheein almost felt bad for saying what she had said. Then she remembered that Byulyi was squishing her and Hyejin in her new seated position. They both pushed their unnie off of them, and by extension, the couch.

“She said ‘secret girlfriend,’ Byulyi. Clean out your ears,” Heeyeon quipped as she stole a slice of pizza and a few pieces of chicken. Moonbyul had regained her balance; she was now standing near Wheein’s end of the couch.

“You’re going to dinner, yet here you are stealing from our dinner. Go away,” Byulyi shot at Heeyeon as she playfully pushed her away.

“What’s done is done. Now, Wheein-ah, what’s this about Byulyi having a secret girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a secret girlfriend.” This is exactly why she didn’t tell Heeyeon about Yongsun. Wheein could sense her unnie’s growing frustration.

“I was joking. She doesn’t have a secret girlfriend. However, Hyejin and I **did** find out today that she’s been having dinner with this girl for the past month. You know we always get-together on Friday evenings, so we bullied Byul-unnie into inviting the girl to join us. She’s supposed to be coming at 8:00 pm, which is why we’re sitting here **not** eating. Unnie won’t let us eat until her friend shows up.” Everyone could sense the slight irritation in Wheein’s voice towards the end of her talk.

“Fine,” Moonbyul exasperatedly replied, “the two of you can start eating. I’m going to check on Yongsun-unnie.”

“Uh uh, you’ve been meeting with a girl for the past month and didn’t even think to mention her to me at least once?” Annoyance. Heeyeon was annoyed.

“I thought to mention it, then decided to not mention it. Because then you’d react the way you’re reacting now,” Moonbyul dismissively responded, heading towards the shoe rack by the apartment’s door. Heeyeon followed her. Wheein and Hyejin couldn’t care less. They got the ok to start eating. All was well for them.

“I’m reacting the way I’m reacting because it’s weird that someone who only hangs out with her team members and a select few others, suddenly started hanging out with some random girl, and continued to hang out with said random girl for a month. That’s odd. It’s strange.”

“It’s not. She’s now part of the ‘select few others.’ We’re friends. Is that allowed?” There was an edge to Moonbyul’s tone. Heeyeon let out a frustrated sigh.

“If you say that the two of you are strictly friends, I’ll believe you, Byulyi.”

“We are. We’re just friends.”

Before Moonbyul finished putting on her shoes, and before Heeyeon could respond, a knock on the door tore through the apartment. Heeyeon impishly eyed Moonbyul.

She stepped forward and opened the door, temporarily trapping Moonbyul behind it.

“Hi, I’m looking for Moon By—”

Before their visitor could finish her sentence, Heeyeon began laughing uncontrollably for a few seconds. Once she collected herself a bit, she leaned to behind the door and stared at Moonbyul disbelievingly, gently shaking her head at her teammate.

“I actually believed you for a second there,” she whispered low enough for only Moonbyul to hear. “‘Just friends,’ huh? Good luck with that,” she chuckled. Returning to their guest, she apologized for her behavior. “I am so sorry. I suddenly remembered a **joke** that a good friend recently told me. You’re looking for Moon Byulyi?”

“I am. Yes,” Yongsun timidly responded.

“She’s right here.” Heeyeon grabbed Moonbyul from behind the door before introducing herself. “I’m Ahn Heeyeon, Byulyi’s roommate. We’re on the basketball team together.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kim Yongsun.” The two bowed towards each other before Moonbyul put an end to this mess.

“Unnie, come inside. Ignore Heeyeon, she was just leaving,” she said, pushing Heeyeon out of the door with more gusto than she did earlier. Heeyeon chuckled as she let Moonbyul do with her as she pleased.

“I am leaving, yes. Unfortunately, Byulyi didn’t tell me that you were coming over tonight, so I had already made other plans. Otherwise, I would **definitely** be joining you all. We’ll have to get to know each other better another time.”

“Sure, that would be nice.”

“Okay, cool. That’s Heeyeon. Bye, Heeyeon. Have fun at your dinner that’s happening someplace other than here.” Moonbyul went to shut the door, but was stopped by Heeyeon, who shoved her head back in one last time.

“Bye, Wheein and Hyejin! Have **a lot** of fun tonight. Yongsun-ssi, it was a pleasure meeting you. Byul-ah, we’ll talk later.”

“Okay. Thank you. Bye!”

Moonbyul finally got the door closed. It took approximately five seconds before her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her sweatpants.

**From: Hee-yawn**

LMFAO!!!! You are so full of shit. ‘Just friends’, my ass. _8:05 pm_

The athlete roughly shoved her phone back into her pocket before gently rubbing her temples. This was going to be one of the longest nights of her life.

* * *

As she stood outside of Moonbyul’s door, it hit Yongsun that she hadn’t fully thought this through. Hanging out with the third-year college student was fun. A lot of fun. Yongsun’s network had expanded a bit in her month at SNU, and she now had a few other people that she considered friends—Eric took every opportunity after learning this to proclaim “I told you so!”—but Moonbyul was, without question, the person she was closest to at this school.

That being said, she had so hastily accepted the invitation to hang out with Moonbyul for the first time on a Friday that she hadn’t fully processed the fact that there would be other people there. Byulyi had said it was “nothing big,” but she also said it would be a group of them. A group could be any number of people. Throughout all of their conversations, she had heard a few names constantly mentioned by Moonbyul—Wheein, Hyejin, Heeyeon—so she assumed those people would be there, but with Moonbyul being a star athlete, Yongsun also assumed she’d be fairly popular and know many more people, who may also be at this get-together. The point: she had no idea who or what to expect, and that uncertainty, as she now stood outside of the basketball player’s apartment, was transforming into fear.

Through the door, she could hear voices, but couldn’t make anything out. It sounded rowdy, sounded fun. She secured the bottles of alcohol cradled in the crook of her left arm before checking the time on her phone using her right hand. 8:00 pm.

Truthfully, the thought of walking back down the hall to her apartment and texting Moonbyul that something had come up had entered her mind more than once, but her friend had bitten the bullet and opted to bring Yongsun into her circle of friends. She couldn’t let Byulyi down. After taking a few deep breaths, Yongsun’s heartrate had calmed a bit. She knocked on the door a couple times and waited. Before she could start internally chastising herself over whether she knocked too soft or too hard, the door swung open and she was met with a tall, petite girl with long ash-brown hair and bangs. She had big eyes, a slim nose, and her outfit was quite chic—a black turtleneck tucked into black jeans, black Chelsea boots, and a black beret. A long dangly earring hung from her right side, visible due to the hair on that side being tucked behind her ear. Yongsun’s heartrate increased again, this time due to embarrassment. She felt completely underdressed.

The girl cutting her off as she asked for Moonbyul didn’t help make her feel more comfortable, although she did eventually introduce herself as Heeyeon and apologized before dragging Byulyi out. The entire thing was a show. Moonbyul seemed agitated, Heeyeon seemed to enjoy Moonbyul’s agitation, and two other girls sitting in the living room kept staring at Yongsun. If there was one comforting fact, it was that the living room girls and Moonbyul were nowhere as dressed up as Moonbyul’s roommate.

She didn’t really know what to do or where to go, so while she waited for someone, anyone, to guide her, she took in the apartment. It was exactly the same as hers. There was an open-concept kitchen at the entrance, it connected with a living room furnished with a long, pleather brown couch and one matching armchair. As with her apartment, there was a hallway on both sides of the kitchen-living room each leading, she assumed, to a bedroom. One cool thing about University Village was that everyone had their own bathroom. It was a blessing. Before getting the chance to further scan the room, Moonbyul came to her senses.

“Sorry about that, unnie. Here, let me get those for you.” Moonbyul grabbed the drinks from her arm and set them on the living room table. “I told you that you didn’t need to bring anything,” she added, turning to look disapprovingly at Yongsun.

“That would be rude to show up empty-handed.”

“You heard that, you two? It’s rude to show up empty-handed.”

“Us being rude is nothing new, unnie. We thought you knew this by now,” the long-haired of the two cheekily responded as she stood up from the shorter’s embrace. “Hello, I’m Ahn Hyejin.” She bowed towards Yongsun. The other girl followed suit, putting her drink down before also standing up and walking towards their new visitor.

“I’m Jung Wheein. Sorry we just stared at you earlier,” she added shyly, “we were waiting for unnie to introduce us, but she never did.” Turning to Moonbyul, she added, “Maybe Hyejin and I aren’t the only rude ones.”

“Okay, simmer down. Unnie, this is Wheein and Hyejin, the ones I’m always talking about. They’re annoying, but I love them or whatever.”

“Don’t roll your eyes while saying that,” Hyejin prodded her in the side. “Wheein, you see her trying to downplay it? You love us, Byul-unnie. Byul-unnie loooooves us,” she sang. Wheein walked up to Moonbyul, placing her face in her neck as she joined Hyejin in singing.

“You loooooove us.” Hyejin threw her arms around the other two, smothering Moonbyul in physical affection.

“See what I have to deal with, Yongsun-unnie?”

Moonbyul had mentioned that these were the first non-basketball friends she made at SNU. Witnessing how comfortable they all were with each other, and how much Wheein and Hyejin adored Moonbyul, Yongsun couldn’t help but smile at the hijinks. She admired their friendship. The moment in itself was heart‑warming, even more so was the fact that Byulyi thought to include her in it, even if in the slightest of ways. Acknowledging her in that moment meant a lot to Yongsun. Extending an invitation to this get-together meant a lot to Yongsun. Her heart was suddenly full of gratitude.

Chorong had warned her to be careful with Moonbyul. Yongsun had heard stories about the athlete’s ways through the grapevine from a few other people, too. She refused to believe everything that she heard though. There was no way that the caring, funny, sometimes awkward woman she’d grown to know was capable of playing with the hearts of women. Moon Byulyi was a fundamentally good person. She believed that, and as she stood there watching Wheein and Hyejin dote on Moonbyul, and watched the athlete pretend that she wasn’t enjoying every second of the affection, Kim Yongsun decided that she’d defend her friend against any slander. Her friend. They hung out often and talked all the time, but this evening seemed to cement their friendship. They were **friends** friends. And Yongsun couldn’t be happier.

“Okay,” Wheein suddenly blurted, “Hyejin, let me out. I don’t want to be on unnie’s neck all night.”

“Wheein from a year ago would die for this opportunity,” Hyejin deadpanned.

“You have jokes. I hope you also have a way to get home tonight because I’m not carrying your drunk ass.”

“No one is carrying anyone’s drunk ass anywhere. Both of you are sleeping over tonight.”

“Yay! Let’s drink!”

“And eat,” Hyejin added.

“Come on, unnie. We’ll take care of you tonight.” Moonbyul grabbed Yongsun’s hand and pulled her further into the apartment.

*

“Let me choose the next song! Let me choose!”

“No, Hyejin-ah! My house, my music!”

“It’s the perfect song! Give me the phone, unnie!”

Hyejin threw herself onto Moonbyul, who was seated on the floor near the recently-opened windows. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the amount of people in the living room, but she was **hot** and needed the cool breeze that was now softly rushing into the apartment.

“Hyejin-ah, get off of me!”

“No, give me the phone.”

“I’m stronger than you, you know.”

“Oh, yeah? Let’s wrestle then.”

They didn’t wrestle. They instead burst into laughter as they both laid on their backs staring into each other’s eyes. Hyejin lost her steam and pulled herself closer to Moonbyul, snuggling into her opened arms.

“Unnie. Can I please play the song? Please?” She was so soft.

“Anything for my Hyejin-ah. Here. You can be the DJ for the rest of the night. I’m tired,” Moonbyul conceded, closing her eyes as she held the youngest.

“Yay,” was Hyejin’s subdued response.

The four of them had been drinking and eating for the past five hours. It was a shitshow. Truth or Dare had been played. Never Have I Ever had been played. It was, objectively, one of the most fun nights any of them had had this year.

Wheein’s infectious laughter suddenly demanded Moonbyul and Hyejin’s attention. Both sat up, curious as to what was going on.

“What happened, Wheein? What’s so funny?”

“Yongsun-unnie! Yongsun-unnie is what’s so funny.”

“Yah,” Yongsun interrupted, giggling, “it’s not funny!”

“What happened?” Moonbyul tried once again to get an answer to her question.

“She’s so drunk and she didn’t even drink that much.” Wheein was gasping for air as she tried to continue talking. “Every five seconds she looks at me and goes, ‘Is my face red? It’s red, right? I know it’s red.’” She slumped over on the couch, her head in Yongsun’s lap.

The impersonation came complete with hand gestures and facial expressions. Yongsun couldn’t be mad. She let out her own high-pitched laugh.

“Is that what I really sound like, Wheein-ah?” The words smothered between her giggles.

“Wheein-ah?! Unnie, what happened on that couch that you are calling her so affectionately now?”

“Aww, I can call you like that if you want, Hyejin-ah.”

“Yes! Call me like that! Wheein shouldn’t only get the love.” Moonbyul took offense to that.

“I’m holding you, Hyejin. How is she getting all of the love? My love doesn’t count?” Hyejin pushed Moonbyul until she was on her back again, and cuddled with her.

“Of course your love counts, unnie. It counts so much.”

“Byulyi, why are you acting so jealous?”

“You see what we have to deal with all the time, Yongsun-unnie? She’s like a baby. We have to shower with love and affection all the time or else she gets cranky.”

“You can sleep on the floor, Wheein. Hyejin gets my bed.”

“I’ll sleep with Yongsun-unnie instead.”

“What?! I want to sleep with Yongsun-unnie,” Hyejin protested.

“Really, Hyejin? I thought you were loyal,” Byulyi mumbled. She was already half asleep.

“Okay. I’ll stay with you this time and next time Wheein and I will switch,” she purred as she cuddled closer with Moonbyul.

“Mmm. Okay. It’s a deal. What do you think, Yongsun-unnie. You agree?”

There was no response.

“Is she dead?” Hyejin asked, eyes closed, no desire to move. Moonbyul lifted her head and saw Yongsun’s head laying in the back of the couch as she held on to Wheein, whose soft snores gradually filled the room.

“Uh uh. She’s not dead.”

“Okay, good. I like her. She’s fun.”

“Mmhmm.”

“That means that she's friends with all of us now.”

“Okay.”

“That means you can’t sleep with her or make a move on her.”

“Whatever you say, Hyejin.”

“You’re only agreeing to anything I say so that I’ll let you go to sleep.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Fine. Go to sleep. I’ll remind you in the morning. Yongsun-unnie is off limits.”

The four fell asleep in those same positions, but woke up all on the same page: there was a new member to their friend group.


	11. Championship or Bust

“At some point, you’re going to have to hit open shots, Moonbyul. If you can’t shoot, tell me you can’t shoot and we’ll adjust the game plan accordingly. If you’re getting too comfortable with your position, if you need a challenge, let me know. We can arrange that.”

Coach Ok had been riding her all practice. Granted, Moonbyul was having an off day, but this was something else entirely. It had been a little over three weeks since official practices started. Everyone else had been making mistakes here and there, but their indiscretions barely got focused on. The one day that she wasn’t at her best, though, Coach decided to call her out nonstop. In front of everyone.

Attempting to make the most out of their one-minute break, Moonbyul languidly headed to the scorer’s table and grabbed her labeled Gatorade water bottle. She used her already drenched undershirt to wipe off the beads of sweat that were currently trickling down her face. The shirt was saturated and was barely effective in clearing her face, but any little bit helped, she guessed. As she squirted some water into her mouth, she incidentally made eye contact with their graduate manager, Ji Yooin, who was at the table. She helped keep time and score during practices, in addition to assisting the coaches in facilitating drills. Yooin was a former basketball player, and was now in her second year of the Global Sport Management master’s program and second year as the team’s graduate manager. She and Moonbyul had grown relatively close, close enough for her to now be carefully watching the junior, trying to gauge how she was doing with all of Coach’s criticism.

“You good?” she asked, the care and concern evident in her voice. Moonbyul reluctantly nodded her head in response as she swallowed more water before speaking out loud.

“It’s whatever. I’m fine,” she added tersely.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’” Yooin laughed. Moonbyul had to laugh, too. Her tone of voice was so completely opposite of the words she had actually uttered.

“I’m mad you made me laugh.”

“That’s my job, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah? I thought your job involved bigger responsibilities than that. I was today years old when I learned that you’re just a glorified clown.”

“We glorified clowns prefer the term ‘jester.’ Please respect that. Besides,” Yooin continued as she stopped the game clock before it hit zero, “keeping the star’s spirits up is a major responsibility. They pay me the big bucks for this.” Byulyi aggressively rolled her eyes.

“I’m not the star.”

“Mmm,” Yooin distractedly replied. She was setting the clock for the next set of drills—15 minutes. “You claim you’re not the star, yet Coach is treating you like the star.”

“She’s been calling me out the entire practice.” Moonbyul’s tone was a bit sharp. She had no idea what Yooin was on, but getting embarrassed in front of the entire team and staff was not usually how stars got treated.

“Stop bitching. She expects more from you. The first game of the season is a little over one week away, and her starting point guard is missing wide-open layups. I can see why she’d be a bit frustrated.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Everyone’s gathering. Water break is over. Better join the group before she calls you out again.”

“Will do.”

*

“We’re going to split up and do some position-specific drills, then we’ll end on a scrimmage. The 1s, 2s, and 3s, go with Coach Do. Coach Kim will take 4s and 5s. Heeyeon, you’ll bounce between both; start with Coach Kim. Byulyi, come with me.”

It took every fiber of self-control in her body to not let out a groan. As everyone split up, Moonbyul followed Coach Ok. Their practice facility had two full-sized courts laid next to each other. The head coach stood in the strip of hardwood that separated the two, allowing her to view both courts simultaneously, which she did. She watched as the assistant coaches started their respective drills before acknowledging Byulyi.

“Why do you think I called you to talk with me?” Her focus was on the group of players with Coach Do, but Moonbyul knew she was paying attention to her, waiting for her response.

“Because I suck today?” The usually stoic coach allowed her lips to turn up a bit.

“You have sucked today, yes. There’s no way around that. How many days until our first game?”

“Nine.”

“Nine days until our first game. Four practices left. We need you this season,” at this, she turned to give Moonbyul her undivided attention. “You’re not a captain this year, but you’re a leader. As the point guard, you’re the coach on the floor. You have to be on all the time, and that may seem unfair, but that’s the burden that comes with being the starting point guard of a team that was a few seconds away from a championship last year. The goal this year is what?”

“A championship.”

“Correct. Which means we have to practice every day like we are a championship team, and that starts with the leaders buying into that and behaving accordingly.” As if she could sense Moonbyul’s defenses rising, she attempted to reassure her starting guard. “I’m not saying that you’re not behaving properly. You do a great job of leading by example. I know you spent almost every free second this past year either watching film or training. You’ve improved a lot, which is saying something because you were phenomenal beforehand. But there is more pressure this year, Byulyi. Teams have an entire year’s worth of film on you playing in this system. They’ve had a year to prepare to stop you. Your role on this team is bigger this year. You have to be more poised and more mentally strong. You have to be ready at any point to make the right decision and **execute**. We need you to execute this year.”

“It’s impossible to make every shot.”

“Maybe. But it’s not impossible to make wide-open shots, especially those within the three-point line. You may think I’m being harsh, but if you can’t make open shots in practice, how are you going to make shots in games with defenders draped all over you?” The earnest look of contemplation on Byulyi’s face signaled to her that she got across the point she had intended to. “You’re an excellent basketball player. We all expect as much as we do from you because we know for a fact that you’re capable of delivering. You’re capable of greatness. So be great. Grab Heeyeon and the both of you go join Coach Do’s group.”

It was championship or bust this season. Given how close they had come to a championship the previous season, Moonbyul figured this would be the case. Still, there was a difference between thinking you’d play **a** role in your team winning a championship and finding out you’d play **the** **main** role in your team winning a championship. This was a level of pressure that she wasn’t fully sure she was ready for.

*

“Good practice today. No practice tomorrow,” Coach Ok was cut off by the cheers from the team. She waited until they had calmed down enough to her liking before continuing. “No practice tomorrow and Midnight Madness is happening on Friday. All of us coaches hope that you enjoy that and have fun, but know that once practice starts on Monday, it’s back to business. We’ll have four practices next week before the season-opener against Yonsei. They’re a strong team, so be ready. Heeyeon, take us home.”

The team was congregated around the center circle, practice finally ending. Heeyeon made her way to center, pulling everyone in. She raised a fist in the air, all other coaches and players following suit, making sure all of their hands were touching.

“You all heard Coach. Let’s have fun on Friday and be ready to go on Monday. We have a championship to win this season, ladies! SNU on three. One, two, three.”

“SNU!!!”

“Have fun but be safe, please,” Coach Do added as an afterthought.

The team members dispersed, some getting the extra energy in their systems out by letting out some hoots and hollers. Moonbyul was not one of those people. She usually stayed after practice to get a few extra shots up, but not today. Never on Wednesdays. She couldn’t be more grateful to have an excuse to get out of this gym and away from everything basketball-related.

The blonde gathered her things and made a beeline for the locker room. Moments after entering and getting ready to take a shower, she heard a few more people enter the locker room before a familiar voice called out to her.

“Byul-ah. You in here?”

“Yeah, Heeyeon. About to shower.” The senior entered the locker space then, catching Moonbyul in her towel and shower slippers.

“That has got to be the fastest you’ve ever undressed.”

“Wanting to get the hell out of somewhere does wonders, huh?” Heeyeon sighed before crossing the room to her own locker.

“What did she say when she pulled you aside?”

“That even though I’m not a captain, I’m still a leader and that she expects a lot from me and that if we’re going to win, I have to be great.”

“Well, I heard no lies.” Byulyi grabbed her soap and shampoo and walked to the shower area’s entrance.

“Honestly, I’m not even mad that she was getting on me. I’m more upset with myself. I played like shit in practice today. All that training and lifting and everything for what? To miss wide-open shots and turn the ball over? It’s pathetic.” By now, Heeyeon had also disrobed and wrapped herself in her towel. She joined Moonbyul by the entrance to the shower room, the two of them heading in together, finding separate stalls. They put their conversation on pause for a few minutes as they washed up. Moonbyul got out first and returned to the locker room. Heeyeon found her there some minutes later after she had finally finished her own shower.

They got dressed in silence as more of their teammates now populated the space. Heeyeon rushed to get dressed and get her things in order. She needed to finish their conversation before Moonbyul left. The heavens were on her side. She was finishing buttoning her coat just as she saw her roommate leaving.

“Wait!” Moonbyul was halfway down the hall leading to the exit when she heard Heeyeon calling after her.

“What?”

“I’ll walk with you,” she responded, slightly out of breath from running.

“I’m not going home.”

“I know.” Moonbyul sighed before turning and continuing to walk, Heeyeon in tow.

“About what you said earlier,” she cautiously eased into their earlier conversation, “it’s not pathetic. Everyone has a few rough practices. You’ve been killing it, Byul. Give yourself some credit.”

“Mm.”

“I hate when you do that. You’re always so hard on yourself. Yes, you hold yourself to high standards, that’s understandable. You absolutely should. But kicking yourself over one practice? Sorry, that’s dumb as hell. You think anyone on the team or on the coaching staff suddenly doesn’t believe in you because you had your **first** shitty practice this season? We’ve been practicing for **three** weeks, Byulyi. Some of the team still doesn’t know the damn playbook. You’re fine.”

“Whatever.”

Heeyeon absolutely, without question, loved Moon Byulyi to death. She also absolutely, without question, **hated** the negative side of Byulyi. And that side was **strong**. In her time knowing Moonbyul, Heeyeon witnessed how loving and caring she was with other people. So encouraging. So sweet. So positive. She rarely ever afforded herself that same amount of love. Frankly, it pissed Heeyeon off. Even worse, there was no talking to her about it. When Moonbyul wanted to be negative and pessimistic, she was locked in. Nothing could get her out of that state of mind until she decided to let herself out of it. This was one of the reasons that she was so grateful for Kim Yongsun. Moonbyul listened to everything Yongsun said and Heeyeon hoped she’d be able to get through to Byulyi when she was down like this. Yes, she teased Moonbyul about the graduate student. Often. That had more to do with Moonbyul’s strong reactions to the jokes than anything else. Heeyeon did **not** believe that there was anything more than friendship between the two of them, in part because Moonbyul said so and she believed her, but mostly because she didn’t believe Yongsun would ever let that happen. The girl had sense.

“Don’t bring all this attitude and negativity to Yongsun-unnie. She’s already doing a big enough favor by being friends with you,” Heeyeon jested, gently bumping Byulyi’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” Byulyi replied, a small smile on her face.

“Is that a smile I see? Well then, my job here is done. I’m going to find something to eat then head home. See you later. Tell unnie I said ‘hi’.”

“Will do.”

*

The walk and talk with Heeyeon hadn’t taken long at all. Her walk on Wednesdays rarely did. A few minutes at most.

As she approached the building, she spotted Yongsun in the lobby, a smile on her face as she chatted it up with the student working security—a regular on Wednesdays—and a couple other familiar faces, one of whom was someone Moonbyul was never particularly excited to be around. Her steps slowed as she entered the building, the sliding doors immediately alerting the other three to her presence.

“Moonbyul-ssi! We were wondering when you were going to get here,” Kwon Seongjin exclaimed. He was a senior at SNU that worked part-time with campus security. A cool guy. She and Yongsun usually spent a few minutes chatting with him before heading off.

Ever since the Friday night at Moonbyul’s apartment, the two had started spending time on the weekends together, too. Sometimes they hung out with Wheein and Hyejin, other times they explored Seoul to find cool places to eat or do work. No matter what it was, the way things stood, they practically saw each other every day, and that wasn’t including the nonstop texts and phone calls.

Once basketball practices started, though, Moonbyul began picking Yongsun up from her class. Wednesdays were brutal for the graduate student. She had classes back-to-back from 9:00 am until 7:50 pm. For Byul, practice on that day ran from 6:00 pm to either 7:30 pm or 8:00 pm. Seeing as the building that Yongsun’s class was in wasn’t far at all from the athletic complex, it didn’t make sense to Byulyi for them to meet at the Commons. She insisted on picking Yongsun up so that they could walk together, so that’s what happened every week on Wednesday. Moonbyul quickly washed up after practice, picked Yongsun up, they’d spend some time talking to Seongjin, then they’d eat at the Commons and head home.

“Hey, Seongjin. Here I am. You don’t have to miss me anymore.” She walked up to Yongsun and gently placed her index finger under the brunette’s chin. “Hey, unnie.” Moonbyul was gifted with her favorite smile in return. Yongsun’s eyes had almost completely disappeared. She was smiling that brightly at the athlete’s presence.

“Hi, Byulyi.”

“Changsub-ssi, Chorong-ssi,” Byul dryly acknowledged Yongsun’s friends.

“Hi, Byulyi-ssi!” Changsub was always pleasant towards her.

“Moonbyul.” Chorong, though, addressed Moonbyul with the same lack of energy Byulyi addressed her with. “Yong, we’re going to get going. We’ll talk later, okay? Bye, Seongjin-ssi. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Bye, Chorong-ssi, Changsub-ssi!”

“Bye, you two.” After making their way out, Yongsun focused her attention on Moonbyul. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Lie again.” Byulyi quirked an eyebrow at that.

“You’re stealing my phrases now?”

“Sorry. I didn’t know you invented the language.”

“Now you know,” Moonbyul sighed.

“Don’t try to change the subject.” She walked up to the junior and rested a hand on her stomach. “Are you really okay? You seem . . . down? I don’t know how to explain it.” Once again, Moonbyul sighed.

“Unnie. I am fine.”

“Okay,” she softly responded. “Where do you want to eat tonight?”

“Huh?” Byulyi’s confusion confused Yongsun.

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t we going to the Commons?”

“It closed early today, remember? We were leaving last night and one of the workers told us.” Moonbyul’s subsequent outburst caught Yongsun by surprise. There was no way the athlete was reacting this strongly because of her love for food at the Commons. There had to be something deeper going on beneath the surface.

Shooting a quick glance at Seongjin, Yongsun saw that he was engrossed in something on his phone. Judging by the headphones in his ears, it was probably a video of some kind. She waved goodbye to him and saw him wave back before she pulled Moonbyul into the vestibule of the building. Now that there were less ears around, she could try to get to the bottom of everything.

“Byul-ah. Look at me. What’s going on?”

Yongsun’s gentle voice coupled with the soft hands she placed on Byulyi’s face and the affection in her eyes almost caused Moonbyul to break down. Despite her glossy eyes, she kept her composure.

“Unnie, where do you want to eat? Just pick somewhere. Please.” Yongsun dropped her hands as she appraised Moonbyul. By now, she could read her best friend. She could read her very well. She also knew her well enough to know that pressing the issue right now would do no good. Releasing a deep sigh, Yongsun let Byulyi have her way.

“We can go to my apartment and I can order us something. Would that be okay?”

Moonbyul felt like shit. Well, shittier than she originally felt. Yongsun was bending over backwards to take care of her when she had had a long day of her own, and here she was, acting petulantly. She needed to get it together, she thought.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

*

Yongsun’s apartment was exactly the same as hers but it felt so different. It was cozy. Comfortable. Calming. Moonbyul wasn’t sure what exactly made it so, but this was her first time in her friend’s apartment and she already felt at home.

The two were on the couch in the living room, the food they had agreed on had just arrived. A variety show on the television in front of them provided background noise. The open windows let in the fresh, crisp autumn air from outside.

Yongsun stood up to walk down one of the apartment’s halls. “Misuk, I ordered food. I’ll set some aside for you.”

“Thanks, unnie,” her roommate called from through her bedroom door. As she walked back, Moonbyul was curious.

“How come I never knew your roommate’s name?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you never listen to me,” Yongsun jested.

“Oh please. I listen to everything you say.”

“Oh yeah,” Yongsun challenged.

“Yeah,” Moonbyul answered seriously. After a couple minutes of thinking about their time together today, the athlete decided to be honest with the brunette. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Yongsun quickly dismissed.

“There is.” Her earnestness was on display as she turned to face Yongsun on the couch. “I was in a sour mood, but that still doesn’t excuse how snappy I was with you. You didn’t deserve that.” They maintained eye contact with one another for a few beats before any response from Yongsun came.

“Thank you for the apology.” Their voices were low, as if the honesty and sincerity of the moment would be scared away should the volume raise by even one decibel. “Do you want to talk about what put you in a bad mood?” She saw the struggle in Moonbyul’s eyes and decided to let the question hang in the air. She wasn’t going to push it.

“Can I lie down?”

“What am I, your therapist?” Yongsun asked this, yet she still positioned herself better—back against the couch, feet firmly on the floor—so that Moonbyul could lie down sideways and settle her head in her lap. The younger of the two felt content in that moment as she felt the older one’s fingers hesitantly running through her hair.

“That feels good, unnie,” she muttered, eyes closed. Wheein did this all the time to her, but if she were being honest with herself, Yongsun doing it felt much more intimate. It was an honest observation. Everything felt more intimate in this apartment though. The string lights created a soft, relaxed ambience. With the harsh kitchen lights off, the living room felt otherworldly. Comfortably cool and refreshing and healing. “And yeah, you are my therapist. Surprised you didn’t realize it sooner. Why do you think I call and text you so often?” The brunette giggled softly.

“You’re annoying.”

“You always say that, but you don’t mean it,” she mumbled, growing drowsy.

“Yah! Wake up. I’ll stop if you fall asleep. I’m serious.”

“It’s not my fault! You’re so comfortable. And I’m tired.”

“Then go sleep in your bed,” Yongsun moved to push Moonbyul off of her.

“Stop. Come on, man, what’s wrong with you?” She repositioned Yongsun and then made herself comfortable again.

Yongsun should have been annoyed, but the way Byulyi whined was too funny. She had to nerve to be irritated with Yongsun as if she was the one in the wrong. Yongsun rolled her eyes, but continued massaging her scalp.

“Your hair isn’t fully dry, especially at the roots.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

A comfortable silence overtook them.

“I had a bad practice.” She was so low, Yongsun almost didn’t hear her.

“That’s why you were so upset?” Moonbyul knew Yongsun didn’t mean it in a judgmental way. She was genuinely trying to understand. So she opened up.

“It wasn’t just bad, it was extremely shitty. I couldn’t do anything right. And it was so frustrating, because I know I’m better than that, but today . . . nothing I did was working. Then Coach kept calling me out and she pulled me aside and basically told me if I don’t play well, the team won’t win. That pressure, I don’t know, unnie, it’s a lot. I wanted to play basketball because it was fun. I mean, it’s still fun, don’t get me wrong, but this is different. Sometimes I wonder if I can live up to it.”

This side of Moonbyul, Yongsun had never seen. It was vulnerable and raw, almost fragile. The two had conversations about somewhat serious things before, but the athlete was always composed, confident. This was . . . not that. She went to respond, her voice cracking a bit from having stayed quiet for so long.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to live up to it?”

“I’ve never been in anything like this before. It’s a lot, unnie. The amount of money that goes into all of this. The expectations. They have my face everywhere, on tickets, on posters. It’s a lot. This season is basically championship or bust. If we don’t win a championship, then we failed. And if we don’t win, that means I didn’t play well, so then that means that I failed. I’ve worked hard, y’know? I’ve been in the gym improving my skills. I’ve been in the weight room trying to bulk up and get stronger. Been working with all types of coaches to get faster and more agile and to improve my handles. Anything you can think of, I’ve done it. All for me to not be able to make open shots and layups in **practice**. How embarrassing is that? It’s like I’m a fraud.”

Moonbyul wasn’t sure why she was able to say all of this now, but she wasn’t going to question it. The doubts had been swimming in her head for some time now, and it felt good to finally say it out loud. She trusted Yongsun with this.

“From what I’ve heard,” Yongsun started, voice tentative, “you’re an amazing basketball player.” The blonde snorted, the first sign of mirth since she began speaking.

“You’ve never seen me play, unnie.”

“Yeah, but if everyone is saying it, there has to be some truth to it, no?”

“What if they’re just saying it because they think I’m cute?”

“Impossible. You’re not cute enough for that.” Moonbyul shrieked so loud, Yongsun’s roommate came to check on if everything was okay. Once she was assured that no one was hurt, she once again retreated to her bedroom.

“Wow. Unnie, look at my eyes,” she turned onto her back so that Yongsun had a better look at her face. “There are tears in my eyes! Whoa, that was so funny. Oh my goodness. Wow. That was a good one, unnie.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“I’m not, but you know I’m attractive. Don’t even try it.”

“Mmm. If you say so.”

They got serious again.

“But yeah, I think about that a lot, too. People treat me a little like a celebrity on this campus. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I wonder how they’d be if I didn’t live up to their expectations. What if we didn’t win a single game this season? Or what if we get to the championship game again and lose? Are all those girls still going to approach me the way they do and try to get close?”

“Well, you’re part of the National Team, so, yeah, they probably still would.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. You also know what I mean. If you lose in the championship game, you’re not a failure. If you lose before that and never get to the championship game, you’re not a failure.” Yongsun held on to Byulyi’s face to make sure the younger was paying attention to her next words. “Nothing can make you a failure because that isn’t decided by wins and losses, Byul-ah. It’s decided by how someone reacts to difficult situations. And you never give up, no matter what. You always push yourself to be better, because that’s who you are. You can never be a failure or a fraud, you hear me? Never. And I don’t want to ever hear you even think of those words when it comes to you. I’m serious. Okay?” Moonbyul took some time to process that before ultimately nodding.

Both stayed quiet. Minutes passed.

“Did you set food aside already for your roommate?” Yongsun didn’t quite understand where that question came from, but responded anyway.

“No. Why?”

“Wheein just texted me that she and Hyejin are coming over. Might want to do that before they come and vacuum all our food away.”

“All of you are just! Ugh!”

She eased Moonbyul off of her as she went to get some Tupperware.

“You love us, though.”

“Lie again.”

“Yah! Stop stealing my phrases!”

“Yah! Who are you talking to?! I’m older than you.”

Hyejin and Wheein arrived later and enjoyed not only the food, but also Yongsun and Moonbyul’s petty squabble. They could always count on their unnies to provide quality entertainment.


	12. Midnight Madness

Midnight Madness weekend at SNU was one of the most highly anticipated times of the year. It wasn’t only SNU students and staff that looked forward to it, tickets for the events were also highly coveted and sought after by young professionals and students and staff at other South Korean colleges and universities. Essentially, for anyone between the ages of 18-30, Midnight Madness was the place to be.

Seoul National University had long been regarded as an athletic powerhouse. Their sports teams were always filled to the brim with some of the nation’s most talented athletes and were always considered contenders for championships. SNU Basketball, though, was something else entirely. The men’s and women’s programs had storied histories of dominance. Only the most elite basketball players were invited for recruitment visits, but the exclusivity was not reserved only for players. Revolutionary coaches and leaders in the fields of Athletic Training, Sport Science, and Sport Psychology were headhunted and brought in to establish a culture of excellence from top to bottom. This was the original reason for the Midnight Madness hype. Each year, the SNU community would gather to witness the official introductions of the athletes that made the final rosters for the impending season.

What Midnight Madness at SNU had since evolved into was a spectacle very few thought possible in college sports. Yongsun was not familiar with it. SKKU had Midnight Madness—every school did—but it was nothing compared to SNU's. As such, when Moonbyul had asked her if she was going this year, she, of course, said yes. At SKKU, anyone that wanted to go could go; there were no tickets. Entry was free to all. She assumed it was the same here. Until Wheein and Hyejin jumped into the conversation to ask what seats her tickets were for. It was the same day that Moonbyul had opened up to her about her struggles handling the pressure that came with being “the star” of SNU’s Women’s Basketball team. Wheein and Hyejin had come over a bit later, completely unaware of the serious conversation that had transpired earlier.

_“Tickets? I had to buy tickets?”_

_The resulting silence was deafening._

_“Unnie,” Wheein looked to Moonbyul, “you didn’t get her a ticket? Midnight Madness is this weekend!”_

_“I didn’t know I had to buy a ticket. They didn’t sell tickets at SKKU! Anyone that wanted to go got to go,” the eldest responded frantically._

_“Don’t worry about it, unnie.” Moonbyul soothingly responded to Yongsun. “That’s why I asked. I made sure to get tickets to everything for you, but I didn’t know if you had already gotten your own. The tickets for Friday should be next to Wheein and Hyejin. For the parties, your names are on the list. You should be good to go.” Yongsun visibly calmed down at hearing that._

_“Byul-unnie takes care of us when it comes to anything basketball-related,” Hyejin exclaimed._

_“It’s the least I could do. You both always support me and come to games and stuff,” the blonde responded bashfully, trying to downplay her actions._

_“She’s being humble,” Hyejin turned to Yongsun, swiping more of the food Yongsun had ordered for her and Moonbyul. “It’s cutthroat here for those tickets. This weekend is huge. **Everyone** tries to get in. Things get sold out quickly.”_

_“Why is it so hard to get tickets for this thing? They’re just announcing the teams and moving on.”_

_“Ohhhh,” the maknaes spoke in unison._

_“No, unnie,” Wheein started, “it’s a full weekend thing. On Friday, the festivities start at 7:30 pm. The teams do the usual entrance where the staff and players are introduced individually. At around 8:30 pm, all of the players get paired up with someone from the audience and they have to take part in a bunch of games. They give out prizes and all that. **Then** the action starts. There’s a concert from 9:00 pm until 11:00 pm; this year we got Loopy and some of the other SMTM rappers. After that, there’s a party at one of the clubs here to celebrate.”_

_“It’s like a part one,” Hyejin added._

_“Yeah. Part two happens on Saturday night. The Men’s and Women’s Basketball teams host Saturday’s party together. It’s at another club around here, but it’s supposed to be massive.”_

_“All this for university basketball teams,” Yongsun asked astounded._

_“Yup,” Moonbyul replied, slowly nodding her head, “all this for university basketball teams.”_

_This new information helped put Moonbyul’s concerns into context. Yongsun understood a bit more of the situation Moon Byulyi was in._

In the following days, Yongsun could feel the buzz on campus growing. People were excited about Midnight Madness. It was all everyone was talking about, even her friends.

“Yong,” Chorong called to her, “are you going to Midnight Madness?”

Yongsun had finished her work-study session and met up with Chorong. They were going to a nearby off-campus café to unwind after a long week.

“I am! Funny enough, didn’t even realize it was happening this weekend. Found out about it a couple days ago.”

“And you got tickets to everything?!”

“Uh . . . yeah.”

“How? I’ve been looking everywhere.” Yongsun wasn’t sure if she should tell the truth or try to change the subject. Chorong was **not** a fan of Moonbyul. She’d somehow find a way to turn the junior getting tickets for her into a negative thing.

“Byulyi got them for me. I didn’t know there were tickets for these things. Everything was free at SKKU.”

“Hmm. I see.”

“You’re not going?”

“To the parties, yeah. Couldn’t get tickets to the concert though. One of my sorority sisters may have a lead, so we’ll see.”

After a few moments of walking in uncomfortable silence, Yongsun decided to take the plunge and address her friend’s obvious dislike for the basketball player.

“You still don’t like her?”

“It’s less about whether I like her or not and more about not trusting her.”

“She’s a really nice person, Rong-ie.”

“You haven’t seen her in her environment yet, have you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you seen her around other girls?”

“No,” Yongsun reluctantly replied. “Other than Hyejin and Wheein, haven’t seen her with anyone else.”

“I’ve already told you what I heard from my sorority sisters. She’s very smooth, very charming, and loves pretty girls. She’s a flirt.”

“Even if she is, that doesn’t necessarily make her a bad person.”

“Look,” Chorong raised her hands in defense, “you know her better than I do. I just know what I’ve heard from **multiple** people. Maybe she’s changed, I don’t know, but for now, I still don’t trust her, especially with you.”

They were clearly not going to come to an agreement at this moment, and Yongsun preferred to spend the time she had with her friend discussing less contentious things, so she left things at that.

“I almost forgot!” Chorong suddenly added as they reached they café. She held the door open for Yongsun and waited until they were seated before continuing, “Jinyoung is coming this weekend.” Yongsun was unsure of what to do with that information, but the expectant look on Chorong’s face urged her to say something.

“Oh. Cool?” She truly had no idea what Chorong wanted from her, which Chorong gathered as she rolled her eyes and added more information.

“He’s been asking about you.”

Jung Jinyoung was a member of Chorong and Changsub’s “‘91 Club”. As with the Cs, he attended SNU for all of his undergraduate career before deciding to continue on in pursuit of his Master of Fine Arts (MFA) degree in Acting from Korea National University of Arts (K-Arts). He was currently in year two of a three-year program. While Acting was his focus, he also composed music. Of all ’91 Club members, Jinyoung was the one that Yongsun had seen the least due to his busy schedule. Clearly though, she thought, if he was asking about her, their limited interactions left an impact on him.

“Oh yeah?” she followed up to Chorong’s revelation.

“Yeah. I was surprised, too. The two of you haven’t seen each other very often and I know he’s super committed to his acting and music, but yeah, he’s been asking about you. And he doesn’t usually ask about girls. He’s very shy when it comes to dating.”

“He’s shy? That’s surprising,” she skeptically responded.

“Why? Because he’s handsome? I can confirm that he’s **very** shy. We were surprised that he started talking to you so easily, which,” she began stroking her chin, “makes sense in the grand scheme of things. I should’ve put it together sooner!” The last part was more to herself than Yongsun.

“What has he been asking?” Yongsun decided to refocus. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. He was handsome. Very. But, again, they had spoken only a handful of times, and dating was nowhere near the front of her mind. Getting her bearings remained her primary focus.

“I guess it’s been more of him bringing you up in conversations that had nothing to do with you. However, Changsub did tell me that he wasn’t sure if he was going to come out this weekend, but then he asked if you were going and Changsub told him you’d most likely be there, so he changed his mind and said he’d come to the parties,” Chorong smirked, wagging her eyebrows.

“You seem a little too happy about this development.”

“I think it’s cute. He hasn’t had a crush in forever and the two of you would look good together.”

“Chorooooong,” Yongsun whined, not caring about a few of the patrons sitting around them that turned to cross their eyes at all the noise she was making, “I don’t like being set up.”

“You’re not being set up. He might, maybe, most likely have a crush on you. No big deal. You’re already going to the parties and the two of you would talk there anyway, so it’s not like anything is drastically different. Just act regular. He probably won’t even ask you out. I’m telling you, he’s horrible at this stuff.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“You love me, hush.”

They talked about a bunch of other things before leaving an hour or so later. Yongsun had to meet up with Wheein and Hyejin before Midnight Madness, and Chorong had to see if she could get those concert tickets. As of now, meeting up at the party was the plan.

*

“Woah! Yongsun-unnie, you’re hot. I’m suddenly even more skeptical than I was before that you’ve never dated anyone.”

The maknaes had insisted that the three of them get ready together. Moonbyul was off doing basketball things with her team ahead of all the festivities, so they took advantage of some rare alone time with Yongsun; their Byul-unnie seriously did not let Yongsun out of her sight. Seeing as she’d never experienced an SNU Midnight Madness weekend before, they appointed themselves as her mentors. The first step, they’d decided, was her hair and makeup, which Hyejin took the lead on. As she appraised herself in the hand mirror handed to her, Yongsun was speechless.

In nothing more than a white bra and black spandex shorts, the raven‑haired sophomore stood towering over a seated Yongsun, reveling in her work with a proud smile on her face. She had truly outdone herself this time.

“Okay, okay,” Wheein declared, sitting up from her sprawled position on Moonbyul’s bed, “time to show us what you’re wearing tonight!” She stood up and joined Hyejin behind Yongsun, handing her bestie a freshly poured glass of wine.

Since Moonbyul couldn’t join them in preparing for the night, she offered them her room. In actuality, Wheein and Hyejin had guilt tripped her into it, but nonetheless, the fact remained that her room was Midnight Madness headquarters for Wheein, Hyejin, and Yongsun. Speaking of the latter, she finally stood up and grabbed a plastic bag full of . . . something, before scurrying into the bathroom.

Hyejin pulled Wheein back to Moonbyul’s bed as she slightly slurred, “What time is it, Wheeinie?” Talon-clad fingers made a home for themselves on the back of the short-haired one’s neck as Hyejin pressed her nose into her friend’s neck.

“I can’t believe this! You’re drunk already? This isn’t even your second full glass of wine, Hyejin.” Wheein grabbed the glass from the younger one. “I’m cutting you off until after the concert. When did you become such a lightweight? I’m disappointed.”

“I’m not a lightweight,” she whined before letting out a soft giggle.

Before Wheein could roll her eyes at that, Yongsun emerged from the bathroom. Once again, everyone in the room was speechless.

“You were lying when you said you haven’t dated anyone. I am convinced,” Hyejin dramatically shared, flopping back onto the bed.

“Ignore her. She’s drunk. But she’s not wrong. You’re seriously beautiful, unnie. Look at your body!”

The growing blush on her face was concealed some by the makeup Hyejin had applied, but the way she sheepishly hid her face behind her hands conveyed to Wheein that she was indeed embarrassed.

“You’re definitely getting laid tonight, unnie,” Hyejin boisterously commented, using her elbows to hold her up.

“Hyejin! You can’t just say that.”

“What? We’re friends, friends can talk like that, right, Yongsun-unnie? Besides, it’s not like I’m lying. People are going to be lined up trying to get with her tonight.”

“I doubt Byul-unnie would let that happen.”

“Wait, what? Why wouldn’t she let that happen?” Yongsun was confused as to why Wheein was bringing Moonbyul up.

“She gets super protective of us at parties and other big events where everyone is pretty much a shitshow. It’s almost funny how she goes into bodyguard mode.”

“Yeah, when she’s not dealing with all the girls that are throwing themselves at her, she’s dragging us away from all of the guys and girls trying to get closer to us. She’s going to have her work cut out for her tonight with you looking like this.” Hyejin’s words sounded anything but concerned for Moonbyul’s plight.

Yongsun’s lips were blood red, soft eye makeup accentuating her deep dark brown eyes. Her hair had been parted in the middle, soft waves cascading down. If that alone didn’t turn heads, her dress absolutely would. It was a black bodycon with a scoop neckline and narrow shoulder straps. Stopping mid-shin, the dress clung to every curve and revealed her relatively well-toned back as the cut of the dress behind was dangerously low.

“You can’t wear that, though, unnie,” Wheein unexpectedly declared.

“Why can’t she wear it?” Hyejin jumped to Yongsun’s defense.

“She can wear it to the party, but not the concert.” Directing her attention to the graduate student again, Wheein further explained, “The team introductions and the concert are fun, yes, but if you’re going to make a statement like that, you have to save it for the party. Wear something more casual to the events before the party.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Yongsun was **relieved**. She had purchased the dress online about a week after moving back to Seoul. Her time in college during her undergraduate years wasn’t full of spontaneous adventurous nights or parties every weekend, and she had always secretly regretted that. Graduate school was meant to be more rigorous academically, but she was determined this time around to live a little and have nights out on the town. At the time, she wasn’t sure if she’d even become close enough friends with people at SNU to do all of this socializing, but she figured it’d serve her well to be prepared in case she did make friends. That preparation included purchasing a few “going out” outfits, this dress included. As things would have it, she did end up making great friends, and here she was getting ready for one of the city’s biggest social weekends. Her preparation paid off.

“I said it so of course it makes sense,” Wheein cheekily answered.

“**Anyway**,” Hyejin rolled her eyes at Wheein’s antics, “hair and makeup are done. Outfit is decided on. There’s one last step before you’re ready.”

With a sudden burst of energy and clear-headedness, Hyejin leapt off of the bed and inched closer to Yongsun, like a predator approaching its prey.

“You have to take a shot with us.”

“Absolutely not. And you’re already drunk, you don’t need more alcohol.”

The youngest turned to her same-aged friend for help. “Wheein-ah,” she huffed, “tell her she has to take a shot with us.”

“It’s the rules, unnie.” Wheein was already up filling several shot glasses with the alcohol of choice for the night. She had long forgotten that she cut Hyejin off from drinking only moment earlier.

“You two know I’m not good at drinking!” It was Yongsun’s turn to whine.

Ignoring her pleas, Wheein grabbed one of her hands and placed a full shot glass in it. “You’ll be fine. It’ll wear off by the time the concert starts, if not sooner.”

“Plus, it’ll help make everything before the concert more enjoyable.” Hyejin went to grab her own shot glass, ready to get this over with.

“True,” Wheein agreed. “You’ll see, the introductions and games are cool, but they’re much more fun with a little bit of alcohol.”

“We played games last year to pass the time! One was ‘rate the players,” Hyejin started.

“And the coaches! Hyejin likes older partners, so she insisted that we include the coaches in the game.”

“Oh yeah, and the coaches. We also made bets on different things, like which players are going to get the loudest cheers.”

“Byul-unnie.”

“Which player’s partner is going to shamelessly flirt with their basketball player the most.”

“Byul-unnie’s.”

“And, vice versa, which basketball player is going to shamelessly flirt with their partner the most.”

“Byul-unnie.”

“So,” Yongsun started, “basically, the two of you spend that part of the night rating attractiveness of players and coaches, and keeping track of how greasy Byulyi is?”

The other two took a couple seconds to think it over and … “Yeah, that sounds about right, actually,” Hyejin concluded. “It’s much more fun than it sounds.”

“If you say so, because it doesn’t sound fun at all.”

“And **that’s** why you have to take a shot with us, Yongsun-unnie,” Wheein brought it all back full circle. “It doesn’t sound fun, but with some alcohol, it becomes one of the best parts of the night.”

Yongsun contemplatively stared at the shot glass in her hand. She knew she was going to take it, and so did Wheein and Hyejin.

“Fine,” she grumbled.

By 7:15 pm, the three had departed University Village and were on their way to the athletic complex with two shots in their systems. Yongsun complained about the first, but it took very little coaxing to get her to down the second. With the alcohol flowing through them, they felt great. What was normally an eight-minute walk stretched into fifteen minutes as they frequently stopped to laugh about nothing at all.

Their ‘Family and Friends’ tickets allowed them to join a shorter line, which was a sign of luck on their side. The regular lines were at least a twenty-minute wait; Wheein, Hyejin, and Yongsun got in in five. Just as they were about to enter the building, Wheein suddenly turned to her unnie.

“I think you’re going to have a great time tonight! On top of everything else, it’s really funny to watch Byul-unnie flirting with people that actually enjoy her flirting. It’s like an alternate universe.”

Ever since meeting Moon Byulyi, people would joke nonstop about how much of a ladykiller she was, how irresistible other women found her, how easy it was for her to make people fall for her and, yeah, Yongsun found Byulyi charming and considerate and sweet, but a heartthrob? She couldn’t imagine it. It just didn’t seem realistic. So, even though most people wouldn’t be, Yongsun was oddly excited to see this other side of her best friend. She wanted—no, she needed—to see what all the fuss was about.

* * *

Ever since opening up to Yongsun about her insecurities regarding basketball, Moonbyul had been out of it. The things that normally sent a jolt of excitement through her body—an empty gym, the sound of a perfect jump shot zipping through the net, placing the ball in a spot only one of her teammates could reach—did nothing for her.

On a typical day off of practice, she’d be holed up on the courts all day taking thousands of shots and sharpening her handles. This time around, she hadn’t set foot there since hastily leaving after Wednesday’s practice. What she needed was some time to clear her head, time to process all her feelings and thoughts. What she got instead was a weekend jam-packed with basketball and parties and basketball-related parties. ‘Irritated’ didn’t even begin to explain how she felt at the moment.

*

Her partner for the Midnight Madness contests was some girl Moonbyul had never seen before and whose name she couldn’t remember. What Moonbyul would never be able to forget, though, was this girl’s shameless flirting. The entire time they were near each other, the girl was doing **something** to get Moonbyul’s attention—grabbing onto her biceps, holding her hand, intentionally screwing up at the competitions so that the junior would have to help her. At first, the blonde thought it was the girl’s nerves over being in front of so many people—there were thousands in the audience cheering the contestants on. Moonbyul quickly realized, though, that it was not the girl’s nerves. She just wanted to get closer to her.

Not wanting to ruin the mood, Moonbyul stayed quiet. She said nothing about the touching or the intentional sabotage. She said nothing about anything, really. If it wasn’t the announcer or one of her teammates addressing her directly, she just “hmm’d” and “ahh’d” her way through the evening. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could get out of there.

*

**To: Yongdunnie**

Where are you? _12:06 am_

Are you here yet? _12:15 am_

You have your wristband, right? I put your name on the list. Come to VIP. _12:20 am_

Seriously? _12:23 am_

The party at the club started at 12:00 am. Wheein, Hyejin, and Yongsun knew this, so Moonbyul couldn’t understand why almost half an hour had passed with no word from any of them. Swallowing her frustration, she picked up her phone once again, squinting a bit as her eyes adjusted to the screen’s brightness. Just as she finished sending a message in their group chat that she knew conveyed her irritation, Heeyeon commanded her attention.

“Come on, sourpuss. Get up. The girls are upset.” Other than the restrooms, the VIP section was the only place in this club where conversations could be held at normal volumes. Located in the rear of the club, there were no speakers in the VIP area, so although the music from the dance floor could be heard there, it didn’t overpower the interactions taking place.

Moonbyul raised an eyebrow at her teammate’s comment. The club was dark, so she doubted Heeyeon saw it, but she did it anyway. “What girls?”

“All the girls that came here tonight looking to get your attention. I did a quick walk-around and actually overheard some of them complaining that you’ve been secluded in the VIP section all night.”

“Well then they should come to VIP.”

“Don’t be an ass. You know the security guard only lets in people with wristbands.”

Moonbyul shrugged and went back to checking her phone, “I can’t help them then.”

If Heeyeon said she hadn’t noticed Moonbyul’s irritability all night, she’d be lying. At first, she thought maybe the point guard had had a fight with Yongsun—she was always impossible to be around when that happened—but Byulyi had told her things were fine with the graduate student, so she was stumped as to what could be causing such a significant change in Moonbyul’s attitude. She slapped one of the blonde’s thighs, urging her to move over on the leather couch. Heeyeon laid her head on Byul’s left shoulder as she watched her friend aimlessly scroll through Instagram.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on?”

“After I deal with it, yeah.”

“Are you going to talk to anyone about what’s going on while it’s going on?”

“I already do.” Heeyeon knew she meant Yongsun. She had to have meant Yongsun, and although she was slightly offended that Moonbyul didn’t feel comfortable enough opening up to her about whatever it was that was plaguing her, she was glad that she had **someone** she could talk things through with.

“Okay.” They spent a few moments saying nothing before Heeyeon sighed heavily. “You don’t have to stay, you know. There are enough basketball players here to satisfy all the thirsty partygoers. You’ve officially been relieved of your duties.”

The blonde giggled. “Duties. Sounds like ‘doodies’.”

“You are **so** stupid. What are you, seven?” Heeyeon rolled her eyes. Raising her head, she stood up while asking, “Where’s Yongsun-unnie, Wheein, and Hyejin?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Moonbyul grumpily responded.

Saving Heeyeon from another bout of Byulyi’s sourness, two of the three aforementioned women rushed into the VIP section.

“Unnie! We are so sorry!” Wheein exclaimed. Hyejin made a beeline for her, sitting in the spot on the couch recently vacated by Heeyeon. She grabbed Moonbyul’s baseball cap-covered head, pulling it to her chest.

“We are so sorry, unnie. Don’t worry, we’re here now and we’re all going to have a great time, okay?”

“Good,” Heeyeon started, “she was grumpy before you showed up. I have to go take care of some of my other friends, but watch over this one. She’s been out of it all day.” At that, she turned to leave and saw Yongsun a few meters away. She was in a conversation with one of the members of the Men’s Basketball team and, judging by the glances she kept sending in her friends’ direction, was completely uninterested.

Deciding to do one last good deed before heading out, she stomped over, pulling the grad student away from him.

“Never going to happen, Minsoo.” He was actually a very nice guy, so she knew he wouldn’t take her intrusion to heart. When met with his bashful smile, she was relieved to have been correct in her assessment of him.

“Come on, Heeyeon, why you gotta embarrass me like that in front of this beautiful woman?” It wasn’t lip service. He rubbed the back of neck as he spoke, signaling to both women that he was, in fact, embarrassed.

Sympathetically rubbing his back, she countered, “If you think about it, I’m saving you the embarrassment. Imagine if you’d continued talking her ear off. How embarrassing would it have been to have done all that talking and **then** found out she wasn’t into you?”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Still,” he gave Yongsun his attention, “it was a pleasure talking to you, Yongsun-ssi.”

“More like talking **at** her,” Heeyeon faux-mumbled. Minsoo rolled his eyes before softly chuckling.

“Thank you, Heeyeon,” he sarcastically replied. “Yongsun-ssi, I hope this won’t be the last time we talk.”

Yongsun wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. As soon as she’d walked in, he’d commandeered her attention, striking up a conversation. He hadn’t been rude by any means, she just wasn’t prepared to talk to anyone other than her friends tonight, especially not as soon as she arrived. His exchange with Heeyeon demonstrated that he was harmless though, maybe even a little bit charming? As such, she didn’t want to be rude.

“It was fun listening to you talk **at** me,” she jested. He and Heeyeon laughed at that.

“Oh, you have jokes, huh? That’s fair. I’ll let you go enjoy the rest of your night.”

After he had gone off to rejoin a group of his teammates, some of whom took the opportunity to crack some jokes at his expense—they’d been carefully watching his exchange with Yongsun—Heeyeon walked her over to where Hyejin, Wheein, and Moonbyul were congregated.

“She’s in a bad mood. Can you watch over her a little more than usual, please, unnie? I know tonight’s about having fun and all that, so I feel bad asking you, but I wouldn’t ask of she wasn’t in a really sour mood.”

“It’s fine,” Yongsun assured her, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you! I gotta go now. I’ll catch you all later.” Before turning to leave for real this time, she made sure to get in one more comment. “You look hot by the way, unnie. Really hot.”

Yongsun blushed a bit before finally going to reunite with her friends.

*

Wheein and Hyejin had instantly lifted Moonbyul’s spirits. They told her the hilarious story of why it took them so long to arrive—it wasn’t them being fashionably late; they had left University Village for the club when Yongsun said she forgot her phone in Moonbyul’s room, so they had to go back to get it, only to later realize it had been in her bag all along. After that elicited a small smile from her, they decided to shower her in physical affection until, as Hyejin had said, she was “appropriately happy again.”

“Okay, okay,” the athlete gasped between laughs as the younger two continued to hug and kiss her, “I’m good. I’m happy again. You can stop.”

“I’m shocked. Since when do you ask girls to **stop** kissing and hugging you. Impossible. This isn’t our Byul-unnie,” Wheein replied. As such, she continued making a show out of loving Moonbyul. Hyejin, however, stopped her actions so that she could laugh out loud.

“Actually, Wheeinie, since today. Did you see her face throughout the games earlier? Unnie, why was that girl acting like that? We were betting on how long until you said something to her.”

“I won the bet, by the way. I said that you wouldn’t say anything because you hate confrontation. I was right!” Moonbyul couldn’t even be upset, Wheein looked so cute clapping excitedly like that. And she wasn’t wrong. The junior worked hard to avoid confrontational situations.

“What did you win?”

“Yongsun-unnie and Hyejin have to buy my drinks for the entire weekend.”

“Sounds like you didn’t win much,” Moonbyul added, “there’s an open bar in VIP tonight and tomorrow.”

Hyejin folded her hands in prayer. “I just want to say thank you so much. Not only to God, but to Jesus.”

They laughed heartily at that.

“Seriously though, unnie. What was that girl’s problem? All of us were so angry watching her all over you like that. If I see her on the street-”

“If you see her on the street what, Hyejin? What would you actually do?” Wheein asked skeptically.

“I’d stare at her aggressively.” The three laughed again. “No joke though, Yongsun-unnie was very upset. And we all pregamed before that, so her lips were **very** loose. She was not happy.”

Speaking of. “Where is unnie anyway?” Moonbyul asked.

“She’s over there,” Wheein pointed to near the VIP entrance where a group of men’s basketball players were gathered. “Minsoo-oppa greeted us when we walked in and then asked for an introduction to Yongsun-unnie, so we introduced them and left. He only had eyes for her anyway.”

“Mmm,” Moonbyul acknowledged what Wheein had said while turning her attention to Yongsun and Minsoo. He was a nice enough guy, a senior on the Men’s Basketball Team studying Architectural Engineering. Still, she knew what this weekend was about—a bit of basketball, but mostly having fun and maybe finding a few new people to hook up with. She’d be damned if she let anyone try that with Yongsun. After seeing the graduate student with Wheein and Hyejin earlier that night, some of her teammates had approached Moonbyul asking for more information on Yongsun. She sternly and seriously let the entire team know that none of them were allowed to try any funny business with her. It seemed she’d have to fend off the men’s team, too.

“Look at her, Wheein, she’s going into ‘overprotective mode’.”

“You can relax. Heeyeon-unnie is already breaking them up.”

“You two are being dramatic. I wasn’t going to do anything. Just wanted to make sure she was safe. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her response was unconvincing and all three of them knew it.

A few moments later, Yongsun made her way over to them and both Wheein and Hyejin held their breath and kept their eyes on Moonbyul. They **needed** to witness her reaction to Yongsun’s outfit. The blonde was relatively conservative when it came to clothing, so her thoughts on the skintight dress and exposed back would surely be comical. With a bit of confusion and a hint of alarm, though, they looked to each other when instead of shock and surprise on Moonbyul’s face, they saw . . . a few things that should not have been there. They noticed the way her breathing picked up as she watched Yongsun approach. They caught the way her eyes took a bit too long as they scanned Yongsun from head to toe. And it definitely did not go unnoticed how quickly she stood up to greet the graduate student, pulling her in for a hug with hands that lingered on Yongsun’s waist.

“She **has** to be kidding me,” Hyejin rolled her eyes in disbelief.

“You know they’re weird like that,” Wheein tried to justify the scene that had just unfolded in front of them. “I don’t think it is what it looks like.”

“Oh? You don’t think that it looks like Byul-unnie’s enjoying that outfit a bit too much? Because that’s what it looks like to me.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Hyejinnie.”

Readjusting themselves, Moonbyul casually slung her left arm around Yongsun’s shoulders, while the latter snaked her right arm around Byulyi’s back and placed her left hand on the athlete’s well-toned stomach. Turning to address Wheein and Hyejin who were aggressively whispering to each other, Yongsun called out to them.

“Thank you two for leaving me to fend for myself back there, by the way.”

“Unnie, he clearly didn’t want to talk to us, and we were watching you from afar to make sure nothing happened,” Wheein defended their actions.

“Yeah,” Hyejin began talking, sending a sharp look Moonbyul’s way, “some of us were watching more intently than others.”

Attempting to redirect the conversation, Wheein spoke up again. “Anyway. Good news, unnie. You don’t have to buy my drinks this weekend. There’s an open bar in VIP!”

“You sound a bit too excited about that Wheeinie,” Yongsun giggled.

“You can never be too excited about free drinks. Speaking of, we’re going to get some now and then scope out the dance floor. Do either of you want anything?”

Moonbyul spoke for the both of them. “We’re good, but thank you.”

“I’m sure you are,” Hyejin muttered. As they walked past their unnies, she whispered to the athlete, “Get it together.”

*

More athletes had left the general area and finally made their way into VIP, bringing friends and romantic prospects with them. The VIP area was big enough to accommodate both teams and their guests, but Moonbyul wanted a few minutes away from the crowded couches, so she and Yongsun stood by the balustrade that ran along the perimeter of the VIP section. They were granted a view of the club’s general area and dance floor. As they took in the clouds spewing from the fog machines, the strobe lights illuminating the establishment, and the sea of bodies grinding, drinking, and chatting, Yongsun leaned over to speak into Moonbyul’s ear.

“You haven’t left VIP all night. Hiding away?”

“Yeah, I’m scarred after the experience with my partner earlier.”

“You’re joking, but you’re not joking,” Yongsun laughed.

“You know me well, unnie.”

“That girl made me so angry.”

“Wheein and Hyejin told me,” Moonbyul chuckled.

“At first I thought it was part of your flirting thing, but then you were just standing there, not reacting, so I figured you were uncomfortable. I’m laughing now, but I was seriously so upset at that.”

Moonbyul shrugged it off. “Stuff like that happens sometimes.”

“Well, it shouldn’t.” She waited a moment before broaching a topic that wasn’t exactly party material. “Heeyeon mentioned earlier that you were in a bad mood. What happened?” Moonbyul figured they might as well talk about it and get it over with.

“Same thing we talked about on Wednesday. I guess I’m not fully over it.” She felt Yongsun’s eyes on her. Growing insecure under such a strong gaze she shared a solution she had been considering. “I think I’m going to talk to our Sport Psychologist about it. Other than our team meetings with her, I’ve never spoken to her, but I guess that’s what she’s there for.”

“You all have a Sport Psychologist? I was so nervous talking through that with you and this whole time you’ve had a professional that could have given you actual good advice.”

“I was making you earn my friendship.” She squealed as Yongsun started hitting her shoulder.

After they both calmed down, Yongsun felt guilty for having monopolized the popular athlete’s time for most of the party thus far, so she made sure to give Moonbyul an out. “Don’t feel obligated to stay here talking to me. I don’t want to get in the way of anything.”

The two of them weren’t accustomed to consistently hanging out with each other in front of this many people. The Commons was typically empty by the time they went there for dinner. Other than that, the largest audience they had was when they spent time with Wheein, Hyejin, and sometimes Heeyeon. Yongsun could feel the stares on them, could sense the curiosity of those around them. She didn’t want to be seen as the reason that Moonbyul started acting out of character and avoiding other women.

“You’re not getting in the way of anything.” Offering a sincere smile, she solemnly stared into Yongsun’s eyes. “I promise.”

Yongsun nodded in understanding before turning back to look out at the crowd. A hip-hop song came and went before either of them spoke again.

“This outfit,” Moonbyul started.

“Here we go! I was wondering when you were going to say something. Surprised it took you about an hour into the party to mention it,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Raising her hands in defense, Moonbyul responded, “I didn’t even say anything yet!”

“Okay, so say what you want to say.”

“I wasn’t even going to say anything bad, just that I didn’t expect an outfit like this. There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s nice. You look good. Was just surprised is all.” She said the last part while looking back at the crowd, nervous about meeting Yongsun’s gaze.

“Well, we never go anywhere that requires us to dress up, so how would you know what I look like when I go out?” She had expected Byulyi to be more judgmental and wasn’t prepared for the relatively kind words.

“Then we’ll start going out,” the blonde answered resolutely, still looking out at the crowd. Turning slightly, she caught the small smile growing on Yongsun’s face, which caused her to smile, too.

“Okay. You look good, too, by the way.”

They were so awkward at complimenting each other, and Moonbyul had no explanation as to why that was. Taking a moment to look over her own outfit, she couldn’t tell if Yongsun was being serious or just giving her a compliment because she had given one first. The outfit was simple: mid-wash denim jeans cuffed at the bottom, black loafers with tassels on them, a white button-up shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and a black Gucci cap. Byulyi decided to take the compliment as a genuine one and thanked Yongsun accordingly.

“If we’re talking about a revealing outfit, though, we absolutely **have** to discuss what’s going on with you and this shirt. Three buttons undone?”

“Yeah, I decided to get wild tonight.”

Moments later, Heeyeon called Moonbyul over to the couches that most of their team had gathered around. Wheein and Hyejin had returned to VIP a couple times since earlier, but were now back in the general area. She wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving Yongsun on her own normally, but looking the way she looked tonight, there was no way in hell Moonbyul was letting the graduate out of her sight. She motioned for the brunette to walk in front of her and towards Heeyeon.

In the end, Heeyeon didn’t have anything urgent to say, she just wanted Moonbyul back with the group, and—despite her roommate’s protests—wanted to properly introduce Yongsun to everyone. Byulyi and Yongsun were able to find seats and get comfortable though.

*

It had been some time since Yongsun had leaned over and told Moonbyul that she’d be right back. The blonde was starting to worry. She walked up to Wheein, interrupting a conversation the second-year was having with a girl on the baseball team.

“Hey, have you seen Yongsun-unnie?”

“No, why?”

Moonbyul sighed heavily. “She left about 30 minutes ago, saying that she’d be right back and I haven’t seen her since.”

“Hmm. Hyejin-ah!” The girl was on her way back from the bar. “Have you seen Yongsun-unnie? She’s been gone for about half an hour.”

“Ah, yes. I was coming back from the general area a while ago and ran into her. She was talking to some guy.”

“Some guy? What guy?” Moonbyul asked.

“If I knew which guy, unnie, I would have said his name.” Seeing that the athlete wasn’t in the mood for her snark, she continued, “But they were with Chorong-unnie and Changsub-oppa. I’m sure he’s one of their same-age friends. Don’t worry about it.”

She wasn’t exactly sure how she was supposed to not worry that Yongsun was talking to some guy that may or may not be one of her friends. If she was going to meet a friend, she would have said so.

“By the way, are you ready to go, unnie? Hyejin and I are tired.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Moonbyul answered distractedly. “I’m going to find unnie. We’ll meet you two by the exit.”

Byulyi walked to the couch where her team was to say her goodbyes.

“You’re leaving already?” Heeyeon whined.

“Yeah.”

“With Yongsun-unnie?” She waggled her eyebrows. Heeyeon was drunk.

“And Wheein and Hyejin,” her roommate responded disinterestedly.

“Boo. You’re no fun. Leave the kitchen light on for me, okay?”

“Got it.” She bid her farewells to her other teammates before standing near the balustrade to scan the general area for Yongsun. A few minutes later, she spotted her by one of the bars on the side of the club. Leaving VIP, she skillfully navigated through the crowd, avoiding conversations with random people looking to get her attention, and walking with purpose towards her unnie.

*

Hyejin was not wrong. Changsub and Chorong were part of the little group she found Yongsun in. As she approached, she saw the graduate student laughing genuinely at something some guy was saying to her. He was handsome, well-groomed. The scene fanned her ire. Moonbyul approached Yongsun from behind.

“Are you ready to go?”

Yongsun clutched her chest, completely taken by surprise at Moonbyul’s sudden presence in her ear. “Already,” she asked, heartrate gradually slowing down.

“Yeah.” The conversation was short. To the point. She wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, opting to skip acknowledgement of any of the others around them, including the guy whose conversation with Yongsun she had interrupted.

She saw Yongsun look back and forth between her and the guy, who stood there with confusion etched on his face.

“Are you ready or not?” She spoke with a clipped tone.

“Uh . . . yeah. Jinyoung, this is Moon Byulyi. Byulyi, this is Jung Jinyoung.”

Moonbyul quickly appraised him before giving a slight nod of acknowledgement. “Cool. Can we go?” She knew she was being rude, but she was more than annoyed with Yongsun at the moment. The aforementioned seemed to be equally annoyed with her because she rolled her eyes, turning away as she did so.

“Whatever. Let me say bye to Chorong, Changsub, and Hodong, then we can go,” she commanded, already walking in the direction of the others, who were standing not too far away.

Her patience wearing thin, Moonbyul sighed loudly and dramatically. “Can you make it quick, please? Wheein and Hyejin are waiting on us.”

She hated fighting with Yongsun, she really did, so despite feeling in the right, she waited patiently for the brunette to return before reaching to carry her unnie’s purse for her. Once again, she let Yongsun walk in front of her, quickly placing her right hand at the small of the graduate student’s back, rubbing her thumb back and forth. Such an intimate gesture was new territory for the two, but Moonbyul wanted to let the older woman know she wasn’t completely upset with her. This was an olive branch of sorts.

Taking precaution against any roaming hands on Yongsun’s bare back, Byul moved her right hand from her friend’s lower back to her right hip and grabbed the left hip with her left hand, forming a protective barrier between Yongsun and any of the hormone-filled and -fueled partygoers.

They made their way to the exit, where they reconnected with Hyejin and Wheein. All four retrieved their outerwear from the coat check before heading outside to hail a cab. As the youngest two prattled on and on about various things that had happened that night, their unnies remained uncharacteristically quiet, but they were both thinking the same thing: they needed to have a serious conversation about tonight.


	13. Aftermath and More

They didn’t have a serious conversation about that night in the club.

They didn’t have a non-serious conversation about that night in the club.

They had no conversation about that night in the club.

Moonbyul couldn’t understand what possessed Yongsun to waltz off like that without telling someone, anyone, where she was going. Yongsun couldn’t figure out why Moonbyul approached her so suddenly with so much attitude. Both chalked it up to the ‘madness’ part of Midnight Madness weekend and kept it moving.

What Yongsun couldn’t move past, though, was how rude Moonbyul had been towards her friends, primarily because it gave Chorong an excuse to trash the junior. And trash her she did. In fact, she hadn’t stopped since that night, and there was nothing that Yongsun could say or do in Moonbyul’s defense. It was frustrating.

“I **knew** she would be like that. Didn’t I say that would happen, Changsub?” It was the first time that all three of them had met up again since Midnight Madness weekend. After everything that the Friday had become, Yongsun opted to skip Saturday’s party to recover and relax, much to Chorong, Wheein, Hyejin, and Moonbyul’s annoyance.

“You said a lot of things,” Changsub replied noncommittally.

“Of course **you** wouldn’t say anything bad about her,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes before explaining to Yongsun, “Moonbyul introduced him to a bunch of girls on Saturday. Barely acknowledged me though.” Clearly she was bitter.

“Well, you talk shit about her all the time,” Changsub laughed. “How do you expect her to behave towards you? I think she has the right idea. Both of you should just ignore each other. It’d be more peaceful that way.”

Yongsun didn’t say much, she just listened. Neither Moonbyul nor Chorong liked the other and there was nothing she could do to change that.

“Whatever,” Chorong switched gears. “Have you spoken to Jinyoung? He kept asking about you all night on Saturday. It was kind of cute.”

“I had to stop him from messaging you after he found out you weren’t coming. What’s going on with the two of you?” It was Changsub’s turn to play Nosy Nancy with Yongsun’s love life.

“You are both a mess. Chorong, I expected this from, but you, Changsub, I’m disappointed.” He chuckled, not taking her seriously.

“That’s fine. Answer the question,” he urged while taking a sip of his Americano. The three were at the same café in Sharosugil* that Yongsun and Chorong had frequented the week prior. It was where the latter first informed her friend about Jinyoung’s potential crush on her.

“Nothing out of the ordinary is going on with us. We’re friends, just like I’m friends with you.”

He looked at her skeptically. “Definitely not like how you and I are friends, but I see that you don’t want to talk about it, so okay.”

“Thank you,” she answered, gratitude coloring her tone.

“Before we drop this, though,” he added hastily, “you haven’t said if you like him or not, and I’ll respect your privacy on that, but the two of you would look **really** good together. And you know I normally don’t say things like that. Your personalities would work well together, too.”

“I’ll take that into consideration. Thanks.”

She was over the conversation. Her deadpan response told him as much. “Okay. I won’t bring it up again. Please don’t bite my head off.” That got an eyeroll from her, but also a smile. Changsub pumped his fist in celebration. “Yes! She smiled.”

“Okay!” Chorong put her phone down on the table. “What are we doing tonight? I feel like doing something to celebrate being able to breathe again.”

For the past couple of weeks, Midnight Madness was all anyone talked about, but what few failed to mention was how to both prepare for that weekend of marathon partying **and** best set one’s self up for the week immediately after—midterms.

Despite not attending Saturday’s festivities, Yongsun was not immune to the same way of thinking that many of her peers had succumbed to. She did nothing school-related on Saturday and, as with her friends and most of SNU, woke up on Sunday realizing that she had run out of time. All of the research papers and presentations that were put off because “they weren’t due soon,” were due. Soon. That very week, actually.

Needless to say, this past week had been miserable for almost everyone. It passed by like molasses poured out of a jar. Getting through each day felt like walking up an escalator that was heading in the opposite direction—not impossible to accomplish if one expended enough energy, but also so energy‑consuming that thoughts of succeeding fled one’s mind as quickly as they entered. For lack of more sophisticated phrasing, the week was ass. Chorong was simply saying what everyone was thinking and yearning for: a Friday night to get drunk, start the weekend off well, and completely erase the past week from memory.

Yongsun felt horrible for having to decline the offer.

“I can’t do anything tonight.”

“Why?”

Maybe, Yongsun thought, if she avoided eye contact with Chorong, her friend would take the news better. She picked up her phone and began haphazardly opening and closing apps. “Heading to the basketball game,” she responded in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

“That’ll be over by 9:00 pm, 9:30 pm the latest. You’d still be able to meet up with us at whatever bar we go to.” Chorong was not understanding what the issue was.

“I’m supposed to hang out with Byulyi, Wheein, and Hyejin,” she mumbled. Her friends absolutely adored Wheein and Hyejin. They thought they were the cutest undergrads ever. It was the mention of Moonbyul that she knew would tick Chorong off. After a beat or two, a response came.

“You can’t miss out on **one** Friday with them?” Yongsun knew that what she really meant was, ‘You can’t miss out on one Friday with _her_?’

“Rong, I promised them. I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Truthfully, beyond going to Moonbyul’s game with Wheein and Hyejin, she hadn’t promised anything to the three of them for this Friday. They had all been so swamped with midterms that most of their interactions were limited to messages in their group chat. She assumed, though, that after such a stressful week, they’d definitely be looking forward to continuing their weekly tradition of getting together to unwind.

“Okay, Yongsun.” Chorong’s tone was cold.

It was getting increasingly more difficult to balance both of her friend groups. It was also getting increasingly more difficult to swallow her frustration with how she was vilified every time she mentioned spending time with Moonbyul. Regardless of what others thought, Byulyi was her best friend and she wasn’t going to drop her simply because another one of her close friends didn’t like what the athlete may or may not be doing with other women. It wasn’t Chorong’s business, it wasn’t Yongsun’s business, and it certainly wasn’t a valid reason to dislike the basketball star.

Still, she didn’t want to fight. Taking a step back, she understood that, in her own way, Chorong was trying to protect and look out for her. Her friend also just wanted to spend time with her and, if Yongsun was being honest with herself, she did prioritize time with Byulyi over time with everyone else. After a deep, calming breath, she spoke up, voice delicate, nonconfrontational.

“If I knew about this early enough, I would have changed plans and hung out with you all.” Chorong nodded in response before giving a bit, too.

“It’s okay. There’s always next time.”

“Speaking of next time,” Changsub inserted himself. The two women had forgotten he was there. “You’re joining us for Jinyoung’s birthday dinner, right? Don’t roll your eyes. This has nothing to do with anything romantic. Our entire friend group is planning it to celebrate him this year. And it’s three weeks away, so you can’t say we didn’t give you enough notice. It’ll be lowkey, nothing big. He’s not one for all that hoopla.”

“When is it?”

“You don’t know his birthday? Worst crush ever,” Changsub joked. Chorong chuckled at that.

“I know his birthday!” She defended herself. “What day is the dinner though? Because his birthday falls on that Saturday, but another friend is celebrating their birthday that weekend, too.”

“Geez, you are booked and busy. We’re doing the dinner on that Friday; he’s heading home the next day to have a dinner with his family.”

“He’s a family man,” Chorong winked at Yongsun.

“The two of you are a mess,” she laughed. “I’ll call my friend later, but I’d imagine that would be fine. He’s celebrating the entire weekend, so I think he’ll be okay with me missing that Friday.”

“**He**?” Both of the Cs asked at the same time. Yongsun dramatically rolled her eyes.

“**Anyway**!” She changed the topic to ask a question about an assignment down the line for their _Methodology of Counseling Research_ class. She also made a mental note to call Eric later.

*

The basketball game was a lot of fun. SNU defeated Yonsei handily, 67-40. The atmosphere for the first game of the season was electric.

It had been some time since Yongsun was able to simply enjoy a game. For years, all sporting events were considered work for her. Sitting around laughing and joking with Wheein and Hyejin felt amazing.

Moonbyul was . . . she had no words to describe her best friend. As with anything Moonbyul-related, Yongsun had heard people talk. Unlike with rumors about her love life affairs, though, the rumors about her athletic ability had all been overwhelmingly positive. If she were to listen to everything others said, she’d believe Moon Byulyi was the best basketball player to ever walk the Earth.

Now that she actually had the opportunity to watch the blonde in action, she’d argue that the rave reviews about Moonbyul still didn’t do her justice.

To say that she commanded her team, the game, would be an understatement. The basketball moved as if it were part of her hands. The control she had over it was otherworldly. The ball went where she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted, if she wanted. Moonbyul’s movements were fluid, graceful. She was a blur half the time given her speed, but if one focused and **really** watched her, they’d see how in control of her body she was. Everything was intentional.

Everyone on the court respected her. Yongsun noticed how attentive to Moonbyul the opposite team was, always ensuring that at least two players were committed to defending her at all times—one in front of her, and a second always nearby to either double the junior or play help defense should she beat her initial defender. Yongsun took in how Moonbyul confidently explained to her teammates where they needed to be, changing offensive and defensive schemes at a whim. Her teammates **always** listened. This, according to Hyejin and Wheein, was new. Byulyi wasn’t as vocal the year before; everything else they were accustomed to, but they joined Yongsun in marveling at their unnie’s newfound confidence and assertiveness.

“_That’s hot_,” Hyejin had said when first noticing it, to which Wheein responded, “_You say everything is hot. . . . But yeah, that’s hot_.” It was one of many laughter-filled moments the three of them shared throughout the game.

Once it ended, Yongsun stood up to leave. She figured they’d all go to their respective homes and gather themselves before reconvening later on.

“Where are you going, unnie?” It was Wheein that had asked her as Hyejin eyed her oddly.

“Home. Aren’t we all going home before we meet up later?” The silence she was met with was disconcerting. She felt as if an important piece of information had missed her.

“We usually wait for unnie after her games. She does her interviews, then she showers and gets her treatments done. After all that, she meets us here. See,” Hyejin pointed to the growing crowd of people down by the court floor, “family and friends—“

“And groupies,” Wheein interrupted.

“And groupies,” Hyejin continued, “tend to wait down there for the players. After the game Byul-unnie had, though, she’ll probably be one of the last ones to come out, so we can wait in our seats. There’s no rush.”

“Yeah, she’s probably going to be in **a** **bunch** of interviews after this. Being one of the best players is a blessing and a curse, I guess.”

There was no “one of the best” in Yongsun’s mind. After what she had witnessed, there was no doubt that Moonbyul had been the best player on the floor. That was by no means any disrespect towards other players. If anything, it was a testament to how phenomenal Moonbyul was. There had been some **very** good basketball players on both teams. The blonde outshined them all.

She was glad, though, that she had turned down Chorong’s earlier invitation to hang out. Had she agreed and then kept them waiting this long, she would have felt terrible.

After watching every other player and coach filter out of the locker room and back out to the court, the trio finally saw Moonbyul emerge. They stood up from their seats, but only Wheein and Hyejin descended the stairs, making their way to the blonde. Yongsun stood back for a bit and regarded Moonbyul some. The basketball star deftly maneuvered her way through the fanfare, stopping to take pics with fans young and old, schmooze SNU athletic administrators, and greet her teammates’ families. As she found her way to Wheein and Hyejin, Yongsun decided she’d spent enough time creepily watching Moonbyul’s every move and left to join her friends.

She noticed the three chatting animatedly amongst themselves as she approached them.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she walked up behind Wheein.

Hyejin excitedly responded as she made way for Yongsun to join their circle. “Byul-unnie’s parents are here!”

“I’m surprised you’re so excited, since everyone knows Wheein is their favorite,” Moonbyul commented, genuine shock in her voice.

“Wheein is your mom’s favorite, I’m your dad’s. And you know I like my men older, so it’s fine with me.”

Moonbyul and Wheein couldn’t possibly show more disgust on their faces if they tried.

“You’re gross,” Moonbyul deadpanned.

“Hyejin, that’s gross.”

“What?! He’s handsome.” Hyejin legitimately didn’t understand their pushback. Okay, yes, he was Moonbyul’s father, but he was also very handsome and charming! Did they want her to lie about that?

“They’re coming. You,” Byulyi pointed at Hyejin, “stay quiet. Say nothing, please. I beg.” All four were laughing as Byulyi’s parents walked up to them.

“What’s so funny,” her mother asked excitedly.

“Auntie!” both Wheein and Hyejin exclaimed.

Once both calmed down and greeted Moon Sangcheol and Park Kyungah properly, the latter circled back to her initial question.

“What were all of you laughing at when we arrived?”

Yongsun knew Hyejin could be a bit unfiltered at times, so she stood a bit back with a small smile on her face, genuinely interested in seeing if the youngest would be honest. Moonbyul and Wheein, however, glared at their friend, willing her with their eyes to either stay quiet or lie. She wasn’t known to do either of those things, but they prayed that she’d choose that moment to start.

She didn’t.

“I was saying that I’m Uncle’s favorite and that he’s handsome, both of which are true, so I don’t know what their problem is.”

Like father, like daughter they say. That applied to Moon Sangcheol and his eldest daughter in this moment. Both stood quietly with faces turning increasingly more red by the second.

Kyungah caressed her husband’s neck affectionately. “He’s embarrassed. How cute,” she cooed. “The two of us take turns, though. We love you both equally as if you were our own. Byul-ah, are you going to introduce us to your new friend?”

Yongsun blanched. She’d come here tonight to watch her friend play and make jokes with two of her other friends. She was not prepared to meet parents. This internal strife went unbeknownst to Moonbyul, who introduced her like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Ah! Omma, appa, this is Yongsun. Kim Yongsun.” Just like that. Yongsun waited, as she expected Moonbyul to say more, but was surprised when understanding colored the faces of each parent.

“Oh! **This** is Yongsun. We’ve heard a lot about you, dear. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Byulyi mentions you often. Thank you so much for taking care of our baby and keeping her head on straight.”

They were in their second year of university, but Hyejin and Wheein, at their core, were toddlers. The mention of the word “straight” in the same sentence as anything related to their unnie made them burst into a fit of giggles. The blonde wanted to be annoyed, but couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. Apparently, she, too, was a child. Yongsun couldn’t participate in the fun. She was too preoccupied stressing over how to respond to Moonbyul’s mother. Palms were sweating, face grew flushed.

“It’s nice to meet you, too . . .,” she choked out, suddenly realizing she had no idea how to address the woman. Thankfully, Kyungah understood her concern.

“You can call me Auntie. And call this one Uncle,” she grabbed her husband’s arm. The man reminded her of her own father. He hadn’t spoken much since arriving.

“Thank you, . . . Auntie. Uncle.” Yongsun bowed at the both of them.

“There’s no need for that, Yongsun,” Kyungah gestured for her to stand. “You are so cute! Are you joining us for dinner?”

Two people froze at that question.

“Dinner?” Yongsun was responding to Moonbyul’s mother, but her eyes were trained on the basketball star, demanding that she explain.

“Byul-ah, don’t tell me you didn’t mention dinner to them. I told you to tell your friends!”

“I’m sorry, omma. It slipped my mind! In between training and midterms, I forgot to mention it to them.”

Moonbyul knew what she was doing. Her parents would excuse almost any wrongdoing on her part if she mentioned school. As expected, it worked.

“Fine,” her mother sighed. She wanted to be annoyed. There weren’t many opportunities for her to spend time with Moonbyul’s friends. Hyejin and Wheein were fun girls. Playfully mischievous, but sweet and good-natured. She enjoyed her time with them; they made her feel younger. And this Kim Yongsun. Any time she called her daughter, she was either “hanging out with Yongsun-unnie,” “on her way to hang out with Yongsun-unnie,” “just left “hanging out with Yongsun-unnie,” or mentioning something or other about “Yongsun-unnie”. Kyungah had high hopes of getting to know this girl better. She had proposed they all get together for dinner after the first game of the season and was looking forward to it!

But Moonbyul forgot. And Kyungah couldn’t be too upset because she knew her daughter had a lot on her mind, and midterms were stressful. So, fine.

“Next time,” she added gently. Just like that, she moved on to asking Wheein and Hyejin about their studies in Painting and Fashion Design and Communications, respectively, making sure to drag her husband with her. Yongsun, though, wasn’t over it.

Walking away from the others and towards Moonbyul, she lowered her voice dangerously. “Dinner?”

“I forgot. Don’t be mad,” the blonde tried placating her.

“You forgot? I turned down plans for tonight thinking we were all hanging out because that’s what usually happens on Fridays and because no one told me that we were **not** doing that tonight.”

“Unnie. Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Byulyi,” she whisper-yelled. “Did Wheein and Hyejin know?”

Avoiding eye contact, she answered. “Yeah.”

“So everyone knew except me. Nice.” Yongsun turned to leave, but felt a hand on her arm before she could take a step. She was swiftly turned back around.

“I only told them just now and was going to mention it earlier after I texted you ‘good morning’, but then we started talking about that movie and I forgot. They aren’t going either.” Two strong arms enclosed Yongsun’s waist from her left side. “Come on, don’t be mad, unnie. I’m sorry.”

Usually, this combined with Moonbyul resting her head on Yongsun’s shoulder was enough to fix a situation like this. Not this time.

“Get off of me,” Yongsun struggled in the junior’s grasp. “I’m serious, Byul, get off of me.” Moonbyul did as she was told.

“Why are you making this a big deal? I forgot. I’m sorry. It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Now **she** was whisper-yelling.

“It doesn’t matter if you did it on purpose or not. You still did it.” Yongsun took a few breaths before continuing. “I turned down plans earlier to hang out with you all. Do you know how much shit I got for that? And now I’m supposed to calm down because ‘you forgot’ and because ‘you’re sorry’?” Moonbyul could hear the quotes in her voice.

Quickly scanning where her parents, Hyejin, and Wheein were, she responded after ensuring they were still going strong in conversation. “Well, at least now you can hang out with whoever asked you to hang out. Problem solved.”

If eyerolls could kill. “You know what? Forget it. I’m going home and going to sleep.”

“Are you serious right now? You said you canceled plans to hang out with us, now you can un-cancel those plans. What’s the problem?” It really shouldn’t be this difficult, Moonbyul thought.

“There’s no problem,” Yongsun calmly answered. Too calmly. “I said I’m going home. There’s no problem.”

“Here we go,” Moonbyul mumbled.

“What?! I already canceled with them, I’m not going to run back now saying, ‘Oh, Byulyi made other plans, so here I am, tail tucked between my legs, running back after turning you down earlier to hang out with her.’ No. I’m tired anyway. The week was long and challenging and I’m not in the mood to go out anymore. I’m going to sleep. I need the rest.”

There were some times Yongsun would say and do things that Moonbyul would and could never understand. For the sake of their friendship, though, she would still apologize and try to fix whatever the problem was. Trying her luck at physical contact again, she carefully approached her unnie and hugged her from the side.

“What if I come over after dinner?” She was met with silence. “Helloooo, Earth to Yongsun-unnie.” A finger found its way to one of the older girl’s cheeks, playfully poking it.

Yongsun rolled her eyes, but still responded, although reluctantly. “Won’t that be too late?”

‘This girl,’ the athlete thought. “It’s about to be, what? 9:45 pm? We’ll find somewhere nearby and get seated by 10:15 pm. Probably won’t stay for long because I don’t like my parents driving back this late. Dinner will be around an hour. I can come to your place around midnight. Would that be okay?” Her voice was low, soothing. She needed Yongsun to see that she was sorry and that she was trying.

“We can hang out another day, Byul-ah. That’s too late for you. Especially after a long week and a game.”

“I’m going to be up anyway. I always watch film after a game. Our Video Coordinator usually sends me the raw footage a couple hours after the game is over, so I was already going to do that. You can watch it with me, use that sexy brain of yours to help me catch things I miss. Hmm?”

It took time, but eventually, an answer came. “Don’t call my brain sexy. That’s weird.”

“Yes, ma’am. You’ll watch it with me, though?” Moonbyul was watching Yongsun hopefully with the puppiest of puppy eyes. She knew Yongsun was soft for those.

“Whatever,” Yongsun answered, trying her best to sound dismissive.

The younger of the two briefly squeezed the elder’s waist before letting go. “Perfect. I’ll call when I’m at your door, okay?” She was excited. She fixed this before it turned into a bigger fight **and** she secured time to hang out with Yongsun. Winning.

The two rejoined the younger girls who were **still** engaged in conversation with Moonbyul’s parents. After a few minutes, Yongsun bid them all goodbye. She hadn’t been lying to Moonbyul—she was exhausted and needed to go to sleep.

*

She hadn’t been sleeping for long.

By the time she had gotten home, removed her makeup, brushed her teeth, showered, and jumped into bed, it was 10:30 pm. Yongsun fell asleep immediately, which was perfect, except now she was up again. Because her phone was ringing nonstop and there was banging on her door. It was 12:20 am and, as with almost every weekend, Misuk had gone home, so no one else was around to take care of the door.

She placed her face into her pillow, letting out a frustrated scream, before snatching her phone from the faux-wooden night table beside her bed. It was Moonbyul.

Yongsun had been so grateful to get some sleep that she momentarily forgot the junior had even promised to come over after dinner with her parents. It was a nice gesture, but she really didn’t have to come. They had the entire weekend to hang out. Moonbyul’s insistence on coming **now**, at this time of night, or morning, rather, left Yongsun puzzled, and after getting the slightest of tastes of uninterrupted sleep, she was a bit grumpy about it.

“Hmm,” she grunted into her phone.

“I’m at your door.”

Yongsun hung up.

She laid in bed for another five minutes before heaving a heavy sigh and mustering enough strength and desire to go open the door.

Moonbyul is smart. A very intelligent young woman. Nothing demonstrated that more than her reaction to Yongsun’s apartment door being aggressively swung open. Face-to-face with a scowling, barefaced Yongsun, she quickly lifted her right hand, showing the filled plastic bag that accompanied her.

“I brought you food from the restaurant,” she said out loud with an unsure smile.

“Mmm.” And with that, Yongsun turned and trudged back to her bedroom. That was, honestly, the best reaction that Moonbyul could have wished for. Yongsun wasn’t sure what the athlete was up to when she left her in the kitchen at the entrance of the apartment, but she figured the blonde would put whatever food she had brought into the fridge before joining her in her bedroom.

She was too far gone to realize that they had never before hung out in her room—it had always been in the living room—so she chalked Moonbyul’s cautious steps and behavior up to the basketball player being afraid of her in her sleep deprived state. She didn’t quite understand why Moonbyul, now in the bedroom, was standing awkwardly by the door, shifting from side to side with a notebook and her laptop tucked underneath her left armpit. Yongsun hadn’t processed that the only chair in the room was full of clothes that needed to be put away, leaving the younger woman unsure of where to sit.

“Why are you just standing there?” She grumbled, aggressively thrusting herself back into her bed and under her covers.

“Uh . . . where should I sit?”

Yongsun had yet to fully comprehend to significance of this moment. She had finally realized that the chair was not an option, but still didn’t quite get it. She didn’t understand why her friend was being so weird.

“Just come on the bed,” she nonchalantly replied snuggling further into her covers with eyes closed, but shuffling to her left some to make space for the other. Moonbyul, she earlier realized, was wearing house clothes, so she assumed she had showered after her dinner. In terms of cleanliness, her getting on the bed was a nonissue.

“Are you sure?”

That made Yongsun open her eyes and stare at Moonbyul, who was now at the foot of the bed.

“Why are you acting so weird? You showered, right?” Moonbyul nodded. “Okay then. The chair is full and I’m not going to make you sit on the floor. Just come on the bed,” she finished off with a yawn.

Moonbyul softly placed her laptop and notebook on the end of the bed before hesitantly walking around and carefully climbing into the space Yongsun had made for her.

“You’re bed’s so high.”

Yong turned onto her right side to face Moonbyul. It took her a moment to get comfortable again, but once she placed her right hand underneath her pillow, and her left arm on top of it, she smiled contentedly. Only then did she bother to respond to Byul.

“It gives me more storage space, which is the main reason, but I also like climbing and jumping onto the bed, so it serves two purposes.”

“Mmm.”

Both were quiet after that.

Moonbyul heard soft, measured breaths coming from Yongsun on her left. Assuming the brunette had fallen asleep again, she took the chance to fully take in everything that was Yongsun’s bedroom. She’d briefly been in the room a couple times to use the bathroom, but only a nightlight had been on both times. She had never spent an extended period of time in it, and certainly not with the lights on.

It was very. . . Yongsun—neat, organized—, but also a bit not? Or rather, there were a few things that were surprising. Her unnie was caring, but she was also a straightforward woman. She said what needed to be said most of the time, even if it was a bit harsh. The stuffed animals, then, that were neatly arranged on her desk across the room caught Moonbyul off-guard. She’d never have thought of Yongsun as soft enough for stuffed animals. Nor would she have imagined the graduate student’s pajamas would match one of the stuffed animals on the desk. The room also smelled **extremely** good. So good that it took Moonbyul a moment to adjust to it. It’s not that she expected it to smell poorly, not at all. It’s more that she had never been in a room that smelled **this** good. Vanilla and cinnamon. Perfect for autumn. The two were great separately, but the blonde had never before smelled them together. Judging by the way she instinctively smiled as she inhaled the scent wafting through the air, the athlete appreciated them together. It did, however, make her a bit self‑conscious about what her own room smelled like. She’d have to check on that.

As with Yongsun’s living room, string lights were hung around the perimeter of the bedroom. These, coupled with the intoxicating smell of the room and how comfortable the bed was, left Moonbyul unsure of why Yongsun ever left this space. She had everything she needed. A small television was propped on top of the mini-bookshelf that was strategically placed on top of the desk across the way. Other than the television and the strobe lights, Moonbyul had everything Yongsun had—the same furniture, the exact same room layout. But Yongsun’s room felt infinitely better. Much more comfortable. Cozy. She’d have to make sure they hung out in here more often moving forward.

“Why are you sitting there so stiff like that?” Yongsun’s voice jarred Moonbyul a bit.

“You scared me, I thought you were asleep.”

“Nope. Just resting my eyes.”

Moonbyul rolled her eyes as she picked up the pillow behind her back and threw it towards the wall on the left that the bed was pushed up against. She crawled down to grab her notebook and laptop before sitting with her back against the headboard.

“That’s the same thing as sleeping.”

“It’s not. If it was the same thing, I would have said I was sleeping,” Yongsun sassed back. Her tone was lower, voice thick with sleep. The younger smiled at her unnie, enjoying how cute she was being.

“Okay, unnie,” she conceded. Opening her laptop, she pulled up the game film that was emailed to her an hour or so ago. “Are you going to watch with me,” she softly asked Yongsun, whose eyes were, once again, closed.

Yongsun sucked her teeth and complained, but she still opened her eyes and got closer to Moonbyul.

“You can’t see like that,” Moonbyul added. “Come. Put your head here.” She had since placed the open laptop in the space to her right, so, in order to make sure Yongsun could see, she guided the graduate student to place her head on her stomach. Yongsun threw her left arm around Moonbyul’s waist. “Someone’s getting a little too comfortable,” Byul reacted. On the outside, she was joking about the situation, but on the inside, she was not as composed.

The two had never been this close physically before. Moonbyul had been close with girls before—in situations similar to this one, actually—so she didn’t really know why this was different, why it **felt** different, but it was and it did. It was almost 1:00 am, though. She didn’t have time to worry about any of that right now. She needed to get on with this so that she could get some rest tonight.

“Why do you even have to watch this now? There’s the entire weekend.”

“There are a few things I want to look at. Things I think I could’ve done better.”

“You’re joking, right?” Moonbyul had had a triple double—23 points, 12 assists, 10 rebounds.

“If I were joking, I wouldn’t be here watching this film, would I?”

“I don’t understand you sometimes.”

“Whatever you say, Yongsun-ssi.” Moonbyul winced a bit as Yongsun hit her on her chest.

“Don’t talk to me formally like that.”

“You’re so violent and aggressive.”

“I heard that’s what some people like in a woman.”

“Whoa! Since when do you talk like that?! It must be the tiredness that’s taken away all of your filters and made you so bold.” Moonbyul looked at her with genuine shock, mouth agape.

In an attempt to hide her reddening face, the brunette burrowed her face further into Moonbyul’s stomach. “Shhh! I’m trying to watch the game.”

“You need your eyes to watch the game, and they’re currently in my stomach. If you wanted a peek at the goods, all you had to do was ask. We’re friends. I’d do that for you.”

Yongsun’s subsequent whine was music to Moonbyul’s ears. She chuckled as her unnie continued with her mini-tantrum. Once calm, Yongsun managed to take control of the situation.

“If you’re going to be like this, you can leave.”

“Don’t be like that, unnie,” Byulyi gently answered. “Come.” She threw her left arm around Yongsun, bringing her closer and holding her in place while she turned her focus to the game for real this time. She began taking notes in her notebook with her free hand.

It was comfortable. Every now and then, Yongsun would comment on something in the game, or respond to an insight Moonbyul shared. That lasted about 10 minutes because before she knew it, Yongsun found herself falling asleep to the sounds of the sneakers squeaking, referee whistles blowing, and audience cheers, as a strong arm kept her feeling safe and secure. Moonbyul, she knew, continued on into the morning watching the game, taking mental and physical notes on things she or her teammates needed to improve before the next game.

*

Three weeks flew by. Before Yongsun knew it, she was spending yet another weekend partying.

“Yongsun. Please.”

“Jinyoung,” she whined, “I can’t.”

Their friend group had completely let loose and all, except for Yongsun, were varying levels of intoxicated. The restaurant they currently occupied was upscale, beyond many of their financial means, but Hodong’s brother owned it, so they were granted a pretty loose leash. That was how they found themselves in a private room with access to a personalized playlist, their own speakers, and copious amounts of alcohol and hors d’oeuvres at their disposal.

“Yongsun,” Jinyoung pouted, “it’s my birthday. Please have a drink. Just one. Or two.” The face she made had him walking that back. “Okay, one. We’re going to do a toast, just drink that. And it’s champagne, not even **alcohol** alcohol. Champagne.”

The others had been after her all night to drink. Initially, Jinyoung defended her choice from their insistence. After a few rounds of shots, though, he seemed to have forgotten all about that. She should have been annoyed, but she wasn’t, because out of their entire group of five, Jinyoung was the most put-together, the most composed. Always. A man of few words. It was adorable, and oddly refreshing, to watch him let go a bit. It was his birthday celebration. He deserved this.

“Okay, I’ll do the toast with you all when that time comes.”

“Thank you, Yongsun. That would make me very happy.” A laugh almost escaped her, but despite his glassy eyes, he sounded sincere. She nodded her head as he patted her shoulder before walking off to do who knows what.

The music was too loud to hear her phone ringing, but the vibrations alerted her to a call.

“Yes, Eric?”

“What’s your apartment code again?”

Eric was in town. His promise months ago of a weekend-long Seoul celebration was not lip service. He had real friends that gathered this weekend to celebrate his birth. She’d never tell him, but she was elated to have him here this weekend. It had been too long since she got to spend time with him. His presence, of course, did not come without a minor headache though.

A few days ago, he called asking her if he could stay with her. She thought he had lost his mind.

_“Excuse me?”_

_“I know, I know. It’s completely my fault and I should have checked the details, but at the time, I was so excited to secure everything that I didn’t dot my i’s and cross my t’s.”_

_“That is such a dated expression, Eric. You talk like an old man. Please.”_

_“That is **not** a dated expression. Plenty of people say that, Yongsun. You just hang out with teenagers, so your understanding of how people in their twenties talk is a bit rusty.”_

_She sighed loudly and sucked her teeth. He laughed, proud that he could get a reaction out of her. It was the only reason he kept ribbing her about being the oldest when hanging out with Moonbyul, Wheein, and Hyejin. She was the oldest member of the ’91 Club, too, but they were all the same age, so his jokes about her age in that group never landed as well as he wanted. He opted, then, to stick to jokes about her undergraduate friends._

_“It’s funny, for someone looking for a place to stay, you seem to be forgetting who holds the power right now.”_

_“Oh my goodness,” he scoffed, “it was a joke. Don’t be like that, Yongsun.”_

_“Whatever.”_

_In his haste, Eric booked his hotel for Saturday to Monday instead of Friday to Monday. He had only realized a few days before Friday and it had been too late by then. The hotel was booked._

_“So . . . can I stay with you on Friday? Pretty please?”_

_“Fine. You’re sleeping on the couch.”_

_And that was that._

“What did you say, Eric? I can’t hear you. Hold on.”

“Is that your boyfriend?” Chorong asked as Yongsun stood and made her way to the door. She was one of the drunkest.

“Don’t have one,” Yongsun dryly countered.

“But Jinyoung’s right here,” Changsub exclaimed. He was also in contention for most intoxicated.

Ignoring them both, she retreated to one of the hallways of the restaurant, closing the door to their private room behind her.

“Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

“I was asking for the code to your apartment.”

“You better not be bringing anyone back to my place, Eric.”

“Oh my goodness. You assume the worst of everyone. That’s not attractive, Yongsun. You’ll scare all suitors away like that.”

“Did you forget that **you** need something from **me**? Because it seems like you forgot.”

“Ugh. I’m not bringing anyone back to your apartment. Got a stain on my shirt so I went to the laundry room down the hall, but forgot the code to get back into your place.”

She quickly rattled it off, making sure to text it to him, too. Her friends drunkenly shouting for her to rejoin the group made Eric laugh.

“Thanks, Yong! I won’t keep you any longer. Seems like you’re the life of the party.”

About 20 minutes later, her phone rang again. Eric butt dialing her.

Exactly 10 minutes after that, she felt her phone vibrate again. Hastily marching to the hallway to tell him off, she picked up the video call, not registering the name. As the connection was still establishing itself, she lay into the caller.

“Are you five? Stop calling me!” Yongsun’s eyes were too preoccupied roaming the hall to make sure no one was witness to her scolding.

“Uh . . . ” She had grown accustomed to this deep voice, but was not expecting it right now. Finally looking at her phone’s screen, she apologized, unable to hide her embarrassment.

“Sorry, Byul-ah.”

“It’s okay,” the athlete tiredly responded. She was lying face down on what looked to be a hotel bed. “Where’s Hyejin and Wheein?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “Probably hanging out somewhere together.” Confusion was written all over Yongsun’s face. It was further exacerbated, though, by the confusion on Moonbyul’s face.

“You’re not with them?”

“Uh uh,” she shook her head.

“But I told you all a couple days ago that I’d video call you tonight from Bengaluru.” There was mild irritation in her voice and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yongsun.

Moonbyul had been gone for the entire week due to her National Team duties. With the Olympics taking place the following summer, this year had been filled with more FIBA*-sanctioned basketball tournaments than usual, but the Korean Basketball Association (KBA)* attempted to manage the wear and tear on players by rotating who got called-up for each event.

The FIBA schedule was **not** kind to university-athletes. International competitions frequently took place during their school year or summer sessions, and more impactfully, during their own basketball season. As such, even though they communicated with KBA officials to consult on nutrition and training, this was the first time that the university basketball athletes—Moonbyul, Heeyeon, and Kisum—had been called into camp this year with the senior National Team.

Jo Hyeryung, or Kisum as she preferred to be called, was a second-year student at Korea University (KU) studying Media and Communications. Moonbyul and Heeyeon had played against her the previous year when SNU and KU faced off. Even as a first-year, she was talented. Very. Neither Byulyi nor Heeyeon were surprised that she, too, had been called up to the senior team. They had no real opinion on her, but even with their loss to KU in the championship game still stinging, they figured they’d all get closer seeing as the three of them were the youngest.

Despite missing tournaments earlier in the year, it was a great sign that they had made the roster for this tournament, the penultimate Olympic qualifying tournament. It wasn’t some throwaway scouting or practice opportunity; they were competing against some of the best Asian and Oceanic teams and had to finish in the top two of their four-team group, otherwise they’d be out of contention for the Olympics. If they succeeded in securing one of the top spots, though, they’d qualify for the final Olympic qualifying tournament in February that’d have the best teams from Asia, Oceania, the Americas, Africa, and Europe. If the coaches called them in this time, it was because they firmly believed in these players’ ability to compete and win.

A good performance at this tournament almost completely secured a spot on the Olympic team, which was wild to Moonbyul! This was something she had been looking forward all week to sharing with Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin. She had texted with them throughout the week and found some time for a few short calls, but the time difference, lack of energy she had after trainings, mandatory team bonding activities, and her friends’ schedules made it difficult to find substantial time to debrief them on everything. This was the very reason why she let each of them know on Tuesday that she’d video call them today. Friday. To make sure they were all together. It was why she had forgone the post-game stroll around Bengaluru with Heeyeon and Kisum. It was why she was face down on a hotel room bed with her head pressed into her pillow, video calling Yongsun, who was now looking back at her with shame written all over her face.

Moonbyul wanted to tell her about the ass-kicking the Australian team handed them yesterday, but their resilience today in bouncing back with a huge win over the Taiwanese team. She’d been dying to **finally** tell the story of the disgustingly complicated day of travel they had on Sunday, and to gossip a bit about which players were probably hooking up. But she couldn’t, because Yongsun clearly forgot. Her suspicions were confirmed as the older woman opened her mouth to speak.

“Byul-ah,” she started, “I’m so sor-”

“Yong! There you are! We were looking for you.”

Yongsun had been interrupted by a slurred voice that Moonbyul was not at all familiar with. Her first thought was that it was the brunette’s friend Eric. She vivdly remembered Yongsun talking about his birthday weekend and, even though she never outright said it, the amount of times the graduate student brought him up in conversation unprovoked told Moonbyul that he meant a lot to her. She was certainly not off to the best start with her friend’s graduate school social circle, so Moonbyul had hopes of being on good terms with Eric. She stifled her quickly growing annoyance, took a deep breath, and prepared herself to kindly and genuinely greet the man.

“Ah, Jinyoung,” Yongsun softly responded, “now’s not a good time. I’m on the phone. I’ll be back in in a second.” In Yongsun’s defense, Moonbyul thought, she had the courtesy to sound embarrassed.

“Don’t take too long, okay,” Moonbyul heard him say. “We’re going to do the toast soon.”

The booming music from whatever room the rest of their friends were in briefly flooded her ears before Moonbyul heard a door slam closed.

Yongsun forgot because she was out partying. With her other friends. With Jinyoung. Nice.

Byulyi had no problem with the man. Logically, there was no reason to have a problem with him. What she hated—had hated for the past month—was how secretive Yongsun was when it came to him. She never mentioned him, but by the way he called her so informally, by the way Yongsun gently and delicately handled him despite his rude behavior just now, by the way she had completely forgotten about the video call tonight, it was obvious the two were closer than the older one let on. It annoyed her, clearly, and she knew Yongsun could tell. More than that, though, Moonbyul let herself be honest about the fact that this entire debacle hurt her a bit. She had thought that the two of them were closer than this.

Not trusting herself to be genial, the basketball player stayed quiet. Yongsun let her have that moment.

A minute or so later, she tried again. “I’m sorry, Byulyi.” Moonbyul figured she wanted her to respond, but what was there to say? She said nothing, so Yongsun continued, a bit of hope in her voice, “Do you have any time this weekend?”

“We’re busy tomorrow and we travel on Sunday.” Her response was terse.

“Oh. Okay.”

Listening to Yongsun’s small voice and looking at her saddened face made Moonbyul’s resolve crumble. She was going to let her off the hook and suggest a potential compromise, but was once again interrupted.

“Yooooong.” Great. Chorong. Moonbyul put zero effort into stopping from releasing an exaggerated sigh and eyeroll. Yongsun caught both and stuck her tongue in her cheek to stop from laughing.

“What’s up, Rongie?”

“We’re about to do the toast but you’re out here on your phone,” she complained. “Come on, we can’t do it without you.”

“Okay, give me a second. I’ll be right in.” Once again, Moonbyul and Yongsun were left alone.

As the junior’s mood soured again, she figured it was time to put an end to this.

“I’ll let you go.”

“No!” Yongsun hastily cut in.

“They’re going to keep coming out and interrupting our call,” Byulyi chuckled humorlessly, “it makes no sense. Plus, I need to get some rest before tomorrow’s last game.”

It was decided on that they’d end the call, but neither made a move to actually do so.

“What time do you get back on Sunday?”

The younger of the two sighed for the umpteenth time during their talk. “I don’t know. Probably like 10:00 pm or 11:00 pm KST? Late.”

“Oh. That’s a long day of travel.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Sleep, probably. Maybe I’ll call Wheein and Hyejin and give them a quick update. I don’t know yet.”

“Oh.”

“Is that all you can say?” For the first time that night, Moonbyul let out a genuine laugh.

“Be quiet!” Despite her words, she laughed, too.

“Okay, I really gotta go,” Moonbyul reluctantly added.

“Sleep well. And make sure to eat, okay? And have confidence tomorrow during your game! I started bragging to some people that my best friend is going to the Olympics. Don’t turn me into a liar.”

“You **would** somehow make this about you. Why am I not surprised?” As expected, Yongsun started whining. She was so easy to play. Getting a little bit of revenge, the blonde hastily cut the call off, not giving her unnie a chance to respond. “Okay, byeeeeeeee!”

*

She told herself that she wouldn’t do this. Heeyeon told her that she absolutely would. Heeyeon was right.

“Where are you off to?”

“Unnie’s apartment,” she grudgingly answered. If the roles were reversed, Moonbyul would be laughing as hard as Heeyeon was now, maybe harder, so she couldn’t be upset. That and the fact that she was zapped of all energy. In lieu of words or a reaction, Moonbyul shuffled out the door of their apartment, past the laundry room and elevator, then down the hall to Yongsun’s apartment.

Fourteen hours of flights and layovers. They’d been up at 4:00 am Bengaluru time to catch a 6:00 am flight. Arrived in Korea at 11:30 pm KST. The National Team had ordered taxis for all three university-athletes. The ride took about an hour. Once home, Moonbyul dumped her bags in her room before combing through her carry-on for the souvenirs she brought back. By 12:57 am KST, she was showered and standing in front of her best friend’s door, souvenirs in hand, holding her cell to her ear.

She’d be up. Byulyi knew this. Yongsun had no class tomorrow, and because Kwon Jihun had also traveled with the team, her work-study shift would be canceled. As a result, the brunette, Moonbyul was certain, would be in her bedroom or the living room watching movies.

“Hello.”

“What are you doing?”

“Watching movies.” Moonbyul laughed.

“Open your door.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

The pitter-patter of steps grew louder as Yongsun neared the front door. She stayed on the phone, though.

“You think you can talk to me any way you want,” the door opened as she finished her sentence, but she continued speaking into her phone anyway. “You’re getting too comfortable.”

Moonbyul hung up and delivered her response directly, all the while brushing past Yongsun and making her way into the kitchen. “You haven’t even seen comfortable yet. Just wait.”

“Annoying. I should ship you back to India. I had peace and quiet when you were gone.”

“Based on all the commotion during our video call, I doubt it.”

“Whatever. Before I forget, there’s food in the fridge for you. You can take it whenever.”

Not waiting for the athlete, Yongsun headed down the hall to her bedroom. Moonbyul quickly took off her shoes and followed.

“What do you want?” Yongsun asked this as she hopped back onto her bed, holding the comforter up for the blonde to get in.

“Rude.”

It took a few moments for both to get comfortable, but they eventually did. Moonbyul laid on her back as Yongsun snuggled up to her, left arm and leg draped around the younger’s stomach and waist. As she usually does, Byulyi had her left arm around Yongsun’s shoulders. Both sighed contentedly.

“Are you staying the night?”

“Mmhmm,” Moonbyul hummed, eyes already closed.

“You’re not going to tell me about everything?” Yongsun sounded slightly ticked off that Moonbyul hadn’t immediately jumped into stories about her trip.

“Only you would find something to be upset about. I came straight here after the longest day of travel ever. I brought you some souvenirs—they’re on your desk by the way—and am allowing you the privilege, the **honor** of cuddling with me. Ungrateful.”

Normally, Moonbyul would get some snarky retort. She was expecting it. But silence engulfed them for too long and her face tingled, seemingly aware that eyes were staring at her. A couple seconds later, she felt Yongsun nuzzle closer into her.

“You’re right,” the oldest conceded, “Thank you for coming.”

The blonde wanted to make a joke. It was a coping mechanism. Suppressing that reflex, she accepted her unnie’s sincerity.

“You’re welcome.”

“I missed you,” Yongsun confessed.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

More silence. Not uncomfortable, though. Moonbyul thought she’d finally be able to go to sleep.

“Did you win?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all you’re going to say?” Yongsun asked with attitude.

She sighed. “Do you only know how to fight? I’m convinced you only know how to fight.”

“I’m not fighting. We’re fighting? We’re not fighting, Byul-ah. I’m simply asking a follow-up question.”

Moonbyul laughed lightly and shook her head at that. “You’re unbelievable. One-of-a-kind, mainly because it’s impossible for there to be two of you. The world would end.”

“Answer the question,” she pouted.

“I can **hear** your pout. How do you even do that?”

“Answer the question!”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I’m too tired. You tell me about your week away from me. I’m sure it was the worst week of your life.”

Yongsun made herself more comfortable, snuggling closer. She launched into a detailed account of what had transpired since they last saw each other. Moonbyul heard none of it. She immediately knocked out, but at least things were fine again between her and Yongsun. She needed to make sure of that before anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sharosugil: A popular area near SNU full of a variety of eateries, bars, and cafes. Frequented often by SNU students or foodies from elsewhere interested in what the hub has to offer.
> 
> *FIBA: International Basketball Federation. Essentially, it is the organization that overseas all things related to international basketball. Countries/regions have their own governing body that handles basketball affairs, but FIBA is the level above that coordinates and organizes everything. FIBA organizes basketball World Cups, as well as qualification for major events like the Olympics.
> 
> *KBA: The Korean Basketball Association, the governing body of South Korean basketball. Organizes and overseas all things basketball-related in South Korea, including the senior men’s and women’s basketball teams, and youth national teams. The KBA would also be the organization that makes sure FIBA rules and protocols are followed, in addition to enacting any additional rules they’d want to put into place. Kwon Jihun is part of KBA staff as he’s the head of all Sport Science and Medicine for all South Korean national teams.


	14. Lee Sunmi

_Bridesmaids_ had only been playing for thirty minutes when Moonbyul stood up from the couch, heaving a labored sigh as she did so.

“Okay, I’m gonna head out now,” she softly declared. There was some hesitance in her announcement. The way she avoided Yongsun’s eyes told the latter that Moonbyul wasn’t expecting her to take this news well. Instead of blowing up, Yongsun rearranged herself on the couch, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. The sudden loss of physical contact with Moonbyul was disappointing, but she attempted to make up for it by wrapping her arms around her legs.

With furrowed brows, she addressed the elephant in the room, “But you just got here.” Not **just** just, but 45 minutes ago, which was essentially the same thing.

“I know, but I forgot I was supposed to hang out with Sunmi.” Still no eye contact. “She just texted me about it.”

“Oh, okay!” Yongsun winced a bit and internally rolled her eyes at herself. In an attempt to sound affable and unaffected, she’d laid it on a bit too thick and ended up sounding overly excited and fake. It was cringey.

Moonbyul finally locked eyes with her and Yongsun saw the regret there. The smallest part of her held onto hope that the athlete wouldn’t do this. It immediately vanished, though, when the other broke eye contact. Yongsun turned her head to focus on the television screen but she heard Moonbyul say, “I’ll text you later, okay?” Her voice was cautious, but Yongsun didn’t understand why. She hadn’t caused a scene any of the other times over the past week and a half that Moonbyul had ditched her “to hang out” with Sunmi, why would she start now?

Yongsun simply nodded her head and busied herself with whatever antics Kristen Wiig’s character was getting herself into. Moonbyul, she thought, could let herself out. And a minute or so later, the blonde did just that.

Once the door softly clicked shut, the graduate student promptly turned the movie off, gathered her blanket, and headed to her bedroom. There was no point in finishing the film. It had been Moonbyul’s idea that they watch it in the first place, but she left.

_Moonbyul grabbed the blankets they’d need. The food she and Yongsun had ordered was already set up in the other room. Reaching to close her friend’s bedroom door with her free hand, Yongsun yelled after her from down the hall, “You can leave it. It should be open cause it’s civil rights. This is the ‘90s.”_

_The confusion all over the blonde’s face was like a shot to Yongsun’s heart._

_“Bridesmaids. You’ve never seen Bridesmaids?” She asked incredulously._

_Moonbyul made her way into the living room and plopped herself onto the couch, dropping the blankets down before reaching over the table to grab her chopsticks. “I think I’ve heard of it, but have never seen it.”_

_“You’re joking, right? You had time to watch all those other weird movies and shows you watch, but couldn’t watch **Bridesmaids**?!”_

_“Choosing to ignore the insult and judgment. I didn’t realize this movie meant so much to you,” the younger chuckled lightly. “Let’s watch it then. We can do a movie marathon or whatever next Tuesday since there’re no classes. I’ll bring popcorn.”_

The popcorn she had brought now sat untouched on the living room table.

Yongsun leapt onto her bed and lay sprawled on her back. The ceiling was suddenly the most interesting thing ever.

Bored. Bored. Bored. Yongsun had nothing to do. This semester’s classes had officially ended yesterday, but the university granted students a couple days to study and prepare before finals started up on Thursday. As a graduate student, though, she had nothing to prepare for. None of her classes had final exams that she’d have to sit for. They all required projects or papers that had already been turned in, so she had nothing but endless free time for the next month. ‘Be careful what you ask for’ they say, and ‘they’ were right. Ever since the semester began, Yongsun prayed for its end, and now, with her wish granted, she had nothing to do. It had only been one day of being unoccupied, but restlessness was already gnawing at her.

A hobby. She needed a hobby. The winter break would be the perfect time to develop one. Until she figured out what that would be, though, she’d continue with a recently developed bad habit of hers—social media.

It was Wheein’s fault. The four of them came together a few Saturdays ago to eat and laze around. Typical. Upon convening, they had a laugh at the fact that Yongsun and Wheein’s outfits matched.

_“Unnie! We’re twins!” Both donned denim on denim ensembles. It was mildly interesting, but Wheein’s excitement about it warmed the other’s hearts. The other three stood on, amused at how happy she was about this coincidence. “Hyejin, take a picture of us. Come, unnie. Pose.”_

_Wheein gets what Wheein wants. That’s one of the group’s unspoken rules, so Hyejin walked over as instructed and grabbed Moonbyul’s phone—she had the best camera out of the four of them. Yongsun obediently joined Wheein and awaited further instructions on which poses they’d be striking._

_“Okay, let’s take some by that wall over there, then we can try some on the couch.”_

_Twenty minutes later, their mini-photoshoot was complete._

_“I’ll edit and post them What’s your Instagram, unnie?”_

_The question wasn’t as surprising to her as it had been the first time Chorong asked it the week before. It was after Jinyoung’s birthday dinner and the '91 Club had taken several pictures together, including one big ‘family’ picture. Yongsun remembered feeling so disappointed in herself that she hadn’t thought through the fact that people would ask for her SNS accounts. Every single one was embarrassingly neglected and unkempt._

_“It’s @yongsun on both Twitter and Instagram, but I don’t use either of them that often, so don’t laugh at how empty they are.”_

_“That’s okay,” Wheein waved her hand dismissively as her focus was set on her phone. “I just followed you on both. Follow back.”_

_“Oh!” Hyejin scrambled for her phone, “Unnie, I’m going to follow you, too. Follow me, okay?”_

_Yongsun laughed at how eager both were about this. “I really don’t post much. You don’t have to follow me.”_

_“It’s okay. We can fill our accounts with new memories that we create together.”_

_“Whoaaaa, Jung Wheein! That sounded so romantic. Byul-unnie, you’re no longer the master. We all have to bow to and learn from Wheein now.”_

_Moonbyul was off to the side watching the other three cause havoc in her apartment. Although she joined in laughing at Hyejin’s joke, Yongsun noted she was a bit distant. She walked up to the junior and gently nudged her shoulder._

_“What’s up with you?” She asked._

_“You never told me you had SNS accounts.”_

_“Really, Byul-ah?”_

_“What are you two talking about?” Hyejin barged in, Wheein in tow._

_“She’s feeling a way because I didn’t tell her about my SNS accounts,” she informed the two youngest. Turning back to Moonbyul, she reasoned, “I don’t post on them. I don’t use them. They’re basically ghost accounts, Byul. It wasn’t a huge secret I was keeping from you. You weren’t missing out on anything.” The junior accepted the explanation with a nod._

_“Aww, unnie was upset because you didn’t tell her first? Don’t worry. Everyone knows Yongsun‑unnie likes us the best, but you’re a close third.”_

_“Aish, this kid.” Moonbyul lunged for Hyejin, but the sophomore was quicker and got away. The former continued chasing the tanned beauty until she inevitably caught her, only to snatch her up into a tender back hug._

The memory made Yongsun smile fondly before she remembered her current situation—alone and bored. The light from her cell’s screen illuminated her face due to its proximity. Aimlessly scrolling, she stopped at times to press the heart on some celebrity posts, but for the most part, she was looking to pass time. Her prayers were answered when, while refreshing her Instagram timeline for the nth time, a new post from Wheein popped up. It was a photo of her and Hyejin standing in a dimly lit room facing each other. Most of Wheein’s face was hidden by Hyejin’s as the former looked to be whispering something in the latter’s ear. Both wore bright smiles as Wheein wrapped Hyejin up in a hug from the front, her right dimple prominently displayed. It was absolutely adorable. The caption simply stated, “Hate her.”

Sounds of snorts followed by a minor coughing fit bounced off Yongsun’s bedroom walls. Wheein was seriously so funny. The heart beneath the picture transformed to red, then she left a comment:

**yongsun** Feeling left out. Hate me, too, please 😫

47s 2 likes Reply

Wheein’s reply came almost immediately:

**wheein** @yongsun Check the group chat!

0s 3 likes Reply

Before doing as she was told, though, a few of the other comments coming in on the picture caught her attention:

**chandong** Love the pic. Wonder who took it . . .

**sowon **Cuties!

**minsik** 😍 😍 😍

**newsun** Look at the coolest unnies, @vernon. Well, they’re noonas to you.

It warmed her heart to see that Wheein—and she assumed Hyejin, too—were slowly but surely getting to know more people. It wasn’t too early for her to say that she loved the two and would do anything to make them happy, but she also realized the importance of them socializing with people their age, not that she was **that** much older than them, but still. She was in graduate school. They sometimes needed to be able to do second-year things with people that were in or near their second year, and she was thrilled that, from the looks of it, they were doing just that. The first time she officially met them, Moonbyul noticed their chemistry with Yongsun and commented on how uncommon it was for them to branch out and befriend others because they had, for so long, only been friends with each other. Yongsun was delighted to see that they finally realized they could befriend others together, as a unit. Judging by the ever‑increasing amount of likes and comments on the post, other members of the SNU community were also delighted by this.

Yongsun headed to their group chat before Wheein scolded her.

**Faves ** **😍**

**Wheeinie**

Unnies, are you still doing your movie marathon? _4:47 pm_

Hyejin and I reached our limit on studying. _4:47 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

We want to come over! _4:48 pm_

**Yongsun**

No :( Byul left to see Sunmi . . . _4:49 pm_

**Wheeinie**

. . . _4:49 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

. . . _4:49 pm_

**Wheeinie**

👀 _4:50 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

👀 👀 👀 _4:50 pm_

**Yongsun**

Mood. _4:51 pm_

Anyway, you two are welcome to come over! I’m bored. _4:52 pm_

Let’s play video games in the lounge! _4:53 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

Unnie, can we play video games in the lounge?! _4:53 pm_

LOL! Great minds think alike. Yay! _4:53 pm_

**Wheeinie**

Byul-unnie’s going to read all of this later. Lol! _4:53 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

Let’s ask her what’s going on with Sunmi. _4:54 pm_

Byul-unnie, what’s going on with you and Sunmi? _4:54 pm_

**Wheeinie**

And let’s send more eye emojis!_ 4:54 pm_

👀 👀 👀 👀 _4:54 pm_

👀 👀 👀 👀 👀 _4:55 pm_

**Yongsun**

👀 _4:55 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

**👁️** **️!!! ** _4:55 pm_

**Yongsun**

Lmaooooo _4:56 pm_

**Wheeinie**

Of course -_- She’s so extra. _4:56 pm_

**Yongsun**

Speaking of extra, Wheein, who’s @minsik? _4:56 pm_

👀 👀 👀 👀 👀 👀 👀 👀_ 4:56 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

*sent with slam effect* **👁️****️ **_4:56 pm_

**Wheeinie**

Okay! See you soon, unnie! _4:58 pm_

Going to get ready to catch the shuttle over. _4:58 pm_

Bye! 🏃‍ 💨 _4:59 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

I’ll tell you when we reach, unnie. _5:00 pm_

Won’t say it here so that it stays secret from Byul-unnie. _5:00 pm_

That’s what she gets for ditching us 😤 😂 _5:01 pm_

**Yongsun**

I support this. Punish her. _5:01 pm_

Travel safely. See you both soon! _5:01 pm_

It would take Wheein and Hyejin about half an hour to get to University Village, and that was if the two of them left right this moment. They lived in Building 906, part of Gwanak-sa, SNU’s largest dormitory complex. From everything they’d shared, their living arrangements were much improved this year compared to last. Their first year had them living in Building 919 with four other suitemates. They were nice and kind girls. Wheein and Hyejin had even reconnected with one of them again this year—Sowon. The issue was the lack of overall privacy. Six people sharing an apartment could be a lot to handle at times, so even though they still shared a room this year, Wheein and Hyejin were ecstatic to have an entire apartment to themselves. The only drawback was the distance to most things. Gwanak-sa was nestled towards the back end of SNU’s campus, 906 the furthest building. As such, campus shuttles were their lifeline. The circuitous routes the buses took were burdensome at times, but they were far quicker than walking.

The point: it would be a while before her friends arrived.

*

**To: Faves ** **😍**

ETA? _5:13 pm_

**Wheeinie**

About 30 minutes? Getting on the shuttle soon. _5:14 pm_

**Yongsun**

Ok. See you two soon. _5:15 pm_

Yongsun had washed her face and made her bed. The oversized t-shirt she sported earlier had been swapped for sweatpants and a sweatshirt Moonbyul had forgotten some time back. She felt accomplished until realizing how much time was left to kill. Instead of standing awkwardly in the middle of her room, the brunette walked over to her desk before plopping down and opening Instagram again. Navigating to the search bar, the blinking cursor taunted her. What she was contemplating doing would only make her feel worse about herself, she knew this, but Moonbyul’s mysterious silence in their group chat was eating at her. She had to. Just to check.

Thumbs moved with familiarity as she typed in a name she’d become accustomed to in the past week. The graduate student released a sigh full of disappointment, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she did so.

“What is wrong with me,” she whispered to no one. The top result, ‘miyayeah’, popped up, and she tapped it.

No matter how many times she stalke-, uh, checked out Sunmi’s Instagram account, the fact that hundreds of thousands of people “followed” this girl never failed to stun her. Moonbyul had told her once that Sunmi was an “influencer”. Yongsun had asked for clarification on what that meant. The athlete was unable to provide any. Maybe it was the ambiguity of what Sunmi did that compelled people to stay tuned in to her account? Yongsun didn’t get it.

The girl was pretty, that much was obvious, but her visuals were elevated by a not-so-subtle air of sensuality emanating from every post of hers. Even her dirty mirror selfies came across as alluring and coquettish. There didn’t seem to be any one stylistic theme to her page—photos were different sizes and varying levels of quality—but each post conveyed the same message: luxury. Yongsun didn’t know much about who this woman was or what she did, but she knew that every photo of hers made Yongsun’s insecurity skyrocket.

Sunmi was tall and slim with eyes that ensnared anyone in proximity. Her account was littered with exclusive name brand products, selfies, photos with celebrities, and outtakes from photoshoots—because she was also a model apparently? The status and conventional beauty aside, Sunmi reminded Yongsun that she was from a different world than many other SNU students. A lot of them came from prestigious families, lived lives of grandeur, had summer villas in foreign countries. She couldn’t relate, couldn’t even pretend to relate, and despite being at the same university as these people, their world was one she’d never be able to access.

Yongsun was knee-deep in posts from years ago when a notification from Wheein popped up:

**From Wheeinie**

**To: Faves ** **😍**

Unnie, we’re here! _5:46 pm_

Hurry down before the security guard starts flirting with Hyejin. _5:46 pm_

Nvm. Too late. _5:47 pm_

**Yongsun**

Hyejin, make the most of it. _5:48 pm_

Get him to give you the gaming console and choose some video games! _5:48 pm_

**Hyejin-ah**

I’m on it! _5:49 pm_

She couldn’t believe time had flown by like that. Figuring she’d lowered her self-esteem enough, Yongsun closed the app and locked up her room before heading to the lobby to save Hyejin and Wheein from her thirsty security guard.

*

“Hyejin, hurry up! Choose your character already.”

“Stop nagging, Wheein. Give me a second.”

“Unnie, tell her to hurry up.” Wheein was close to throwing a tantrum. Yongsun could tell by the way her legs were rapidly bouncing up and down.

“Fine! There! I picked a character. Happy?”

“Pink Gold Peach? Seriously, Hyejin? She sucks.”

“You wanted me to pick someone and I did that, now you have a problem with the person I chose. There’s no winning with you.”

“There’ll be lots of winning **for** me, seeing as you chose the worst character.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy then? Stop complaining,” Hyejin frustratedly yelled.

“I’m not complaining!” Wheein yelled back. The awkward tension lasted for approximately 0.6 seconds as both burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Wheein-ah,” Hyejin choked between laughs, “did you see unnie’s face? She was so scared.”

“I saw. She sat there like this,” an impersonation of Yongsun’s stressed state was perfectly recreated by Wheein as Yongsun joined in on the laughter.

“I was so nervous,” she whined. “I didn’t know what to do! Did you two do that on purpose just to mess with me?”

“No. Hyejin always takes forever choosing characters. It’s so annoying, but I can’t stay mad at her. Look at that face,” she gestured to Hyejin, “if I don’t love it, who will?”

“Yah! You see this, unnie? **One** man puts heart eyes under her Instagram pictures and she doesn’t know how to ac-” Hyejin’s lips were clamped shut before she could finish. Wheein had leapt from her armchair to fling herself onto her roommate.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” The two sat there wrestling as Hyejin tried ardently to remove Wheein’s hand, giggles and squeals from both filling the building’s lounge.

Once calmed down, Wheein returned to her chair with a smile lingering.

“Okay,” Yongsun started unfazed by whatever that was, “now that that’s over, I picked the track while you two were wrestling.”

“Anything but Rainb-”

“I chose Rainbow Road.” Groans came in response.

“We hate that track. Both of us suck at it,” Hyejin sighed.

“I suck at it, too, so we can all struggle together.”

Aside from the three of them and their shenanigans, the lounge was empty—everyone else seemed to be making the most of the study days. They fell into silence, all of them taking the first lap to get adjusted. Once that was over, though, all bets were off, in the game and out of it.

“So, Wheein-ah, who’s Minsik?” Yongsun asked, eyes glued to the television screen.

“You’re really not going to give up on this, are you, unnie?” Yongsun shook her head, not realizing that the second-year’s eyes were also trained on the television.

“He’s some boy. Met him at Midnight Madn-, ah! Hyejin, why would you use that red shell on me?! What is wrong with this girl, seriously! Sorry, unnie, met him at Midnight Madness. We exchanged SNS accounts. He’s a party promoter and a rapper or whatever.”

“But he’s been messaging her a lot lately trying to take her out and she’s been ignoring it. Poor guy.”

“That’s not nice, Wheein. Why are you avoiding him? Hyejin, if you hit me with that, I’m going to hit you in real life. Exactly, drive elsewhere.”

“Did you not hear the part about him being a party promoter and a rapper? Ugh! I fell off. Hate this course.”

“Party promoters and rappers need love, too, Wheein.”

“Pretty sure it’s not love he’s after, unnie.”

“So you’re just going to keep ignoring him as he publicly expresses feelings for you on your page?”

“Not sure yet. We all suck at this game,” Wheein declared, dropping her controller. The race was over. Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin finished in the last three positions. “Has Byul-unnie responded yet? She’s **really** good at this game, even on this track.”

“She hasn’t messaged us in the group chat,” Hyejin replied. “Unnie, did she message you privately?”

“Nope. I don’t know anything about what she’s doing with that girl,” she tartly responded. Her tone came out harsher than intended so she promptly changed the topic in an attempt to cover up her bitterness. “Do you two want food? I’m hungry. Thinking about ordering something.”

Yongsun didn’t want to talk about Moonbyul. The basketball player’s actions over the past week and a half bugged her, they truly did. It took time to get Moonbyul to fully forgive her for everything that happened the weekend of Jinyoung and Eric’s birthdays, yet here the junior was, either completely canceling their time together last minute or leaving early. It was only because she didn’t want to fight with the blonde that she bottled her frustrations and said nothing. However, with Wheein and Hyejin now eager to talk about their unnie’s new acquaintance, Yongsun wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold back anymore.

“'That girl’ has a name, unnie. It’s Sunmi.”

“You know she doesn’t like her, Hyejin. Stop teasing.”

Yongsun still tried to play coy. “I don’t like her? What makes you think that? I’m ordering chicken by the way. Is that fine?”

“That’s perfect,” Hyejin clapped excitedly. “And we don’t think it, we know it. Every time you hear her name, you nearly pop a vein trying not to roll your eyes. You can be honest with us, Byul-unnie isn’t here.” Her melodious laugh only intensified as she caught the cushion Yongsun had flung at her head.

“Yeah, you’re not as good at hiding it as you think, unnie. It’s okay, though, we think she’s kind of weird, too.”

“Why do you think she’s weird?” Yongsun didn’t want to influence Wheein and Hyejin’s thoughts on Sunmi, so she opted to let them air their feelings first before she sounded off.

The armchairs in the lounge were arranged in a semi-circle, all facing the large flat-screen television that still displayed the rankings from their race. Each of the young women scooted to the edge of their seats, getting as close and comfortable as possible for their impending shit-talking session. Hyejin got things going.

“First of all, she came out of nowhere and is suddenly all over Byul-unnie. That’s weird.”

“Yeah,” Wheein agreed. “They’re in completely different departments, so they don’t have any classes in common. That’s what Byul-unnie told me a couple days ago when I asked about her.”

“She came back from her year off, didn’t talk to unnie at all this entire semester, now we’re in December about to leave for winter break and she’s after unnie to ‘take pictures’? Please. Give me a break.”

“Her family is filthy rich, Yongsun-unnie. Like, **rich** rich.”

“Wealthy,” Hyejin made sure to emphasize each syllable.

“Yeah, wealthy,” Wheein agreed. “Have you seen her Instagram page?”

“I have,” Yongsun reluctantly confirmed.

“Okay then. So you’ve seen all her fancy photoshoot pictures and the celebrities she’s met and all that. Now, tell me, if someone has access to all of that, why are they approaching someone that only recently got into taking photos as a hobby and asking them to take pictures of them? It makes **zero** sense.”

“Except,” Hyejin butted in, “if she’s trying to get with Byul-unnie. Which we think she is. It’s the only logical explanation.”

“That’s what I think, too,” Yongsun agreed. “I told Byulyi that that girl likes her, but she insisted that that’s not the case. ‘She just wants me to take pictures for her,’ she said.”

“Unnie, your impersonation was so perfect. She really does sound like that.” Wheein’s soft giggles joined the background music from the video game in filling the room.

“I’m mad that you’re making me laugh! You don’t even understand how annoying the whole situation is. If she flakes on me one more time, I’m going to snap.”

“Honestly, that’s what makes me think Byul-unnie actually likes Sunmi. The one thing she **never** compromises is her time with you. That comes before everything else, so the fact that she’s even canceling on **you**? It’s fishy.”

“Eh . . . I don’t think that’s true.”

“Which part?”

“Her putting me before everything else.”

“It is,” the two youngest responded simultaneously.

“Anyway. If she just admitted that that girl likes her and that she likes that girl back, I’d be less upset about it.”

“Would you really?” Hyejin asked, making no attempt to hide the doubt in her voice.

“Yes. I would. What are you trying to insinuate?”

“Ew, who says ‘insinuate’, unnie?” Wheein couldn’t help teasing Yongsun.

“Yah! People use that word! Don’t even start with me, Wheein-ah.” She lost her steam by the end of the statement and ended up laughing. It was like she could never stay serious with these two.

They took a quick break in their conversation. Yongsun needed to order their food, and Wheein went to use the bathroom. Once the order was complete, Hyejin and Yongsun sat chatting.

“Unnie, what’s up with you and Jinyoung-oppa?”

“Are we only discussing romance today?”

“Now that it’s about you, you don’t want to talk about it, huh?”

“Talk about what,” Wheein joined them again.

“Jinyoung-oppa,” Hyejin said.

“Ohhh! Yeah, what’s up with that, unnie? He’s very handsome and he **clearly** likes you. What’s the holdup?”

Yongsun normally hated talking about Jinyoung, but that was because the people usually asking had an opinion on him one way or another. Chorong desperately wanted to set her up with him, and Moonbyul always caught an attitude when he was brought up. Wheein and Hyejin, although younger than her, were easygoing and wise beyond their years. Maybe they were the best people to open up to about this.

“I don’t know. He’s attractive, very. And he’s really sweet, surprisingly funny. He’s intelligent and talented. Patient. **Very** patient with me. I don’t know. I like being around him and spending time with him, but it’s always with our whole friend group, so it gets weird because they all start making jokes or trying to force us together.”

The younger girls looked on contemplatively, but said nothing, allowing Yongsun to let it all out.

“I’ve also never dated anyone before, which you both know, so I don’t really know how that works, and he’s very well-mannered, so he never tries anything. Unless I make the first move, I doubt he’s going to, but I don’t want to be the one to make the first move.”

“Have you told him this?”

“Mm mm,” she shook her head and was met with inquisitive eyes so she decided to explain herself. “I don’t know. This dating stuff is tiring and I’m not even dating.”

“You’re hot, unnie. People are going to want to date you. People already want to date you. If you like him or think you like him, why not, y’know? He seems like a good guy, he’s a friend. It sounds like he’ll take good care of you and not force you into anything.”

“Plus,” Wheein added, “it doesn’t have to be stressful. It could simply be you two hanging out and going places or trying new things together. It wouldn’t have to mean adding labels or being exclusive.”

“The point is, you need practice. He could be great practice.”

They were making great points, giving her a lot to consider.

“What if it doesn’t work out? Then I lose a friend and things get awkward within our group. I don’t want to be the reason for that.” Wheein took that one.

“You should talk to him about that, unnie. The man really likes you and it’s likely he’s also confused about what’s going on between the two of you. Communication is essential to any relationship. If you’re considering dating him, or even if you only want to keep him as a friend, you’d need to be able to communicate with him. Talk to him.”

“But what am I supposed to say?” Wheein and Hyejin found her whining adorable.

“You’re so cute, unnie. No wonder so many people like you.”

“Only one person likes me, Hyejin.”

“If you say so,” the youngest rolled her eyes. “Tell him exactly what you told us. The things you like about him, your concerns, all of that.”

“Make sure to spend time **alone**, too. Just the two of you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

That was the end of that. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Yongsun let out a massive sigh; she felt great.

“Speak of the devil.”

“What is it Wheein-ah?”

“Sunmi’s Instagram.”

That piqued Yongsun’s interest. She’d checked the girl’s page a bit earlier and there was nothing of particular interest. Hyejin grabbed Wheein’s phone to see what was going on.

“Is she serious? Watch Byul-unnie still play dumb after this.”

“What happened?” Yongsun felt left out.

“Look.”

It was a new post on Sunmi’s account. Two candid pictures of Moonbyul playing games at an arcade, her back to the camera in both. If people didn’t **know** Byulyi, they may not have been able to guess it was her. The caption cleared up any confusion, though:

334 likes

**miyayeah** Making the most of the study day with @byulyi 🙈😍

View all 50 comments

**kjw0726** Getting the feeling that not much studying is going on.

|**miyayeah** @kjw0726 Shhhh 🤫

**khkhldz** With Moon Byulyi?! Unnie, you hit the jackpot.

|**miyayeah** @khkhldz I know. She’s the best.

13 minutes ago

Wheein and Hyejin stayed stone still as Yongsun took everything in. They had no idea how she’d take the news but grew more concerned as each silent moment passed.

The graduate student’s lips slowly turned into a small smirk as she shook her head and chuckled humorlessly. Suddenly, Yongsun handed Wheein her phone before picking up her own and reading a notification she received. A few beats later, she coolly announced, “Our food’s here.”

The brunette stood to walk down the hall into the lobby where the two assumed the delivery person had messaged her from. As usual, Wheein and Hyejin were on the same page, sharing a poignant look with each other before Hyejin spoke what both had been thinking.

“Shit. She’s pissed.”

*

**From: Maybe Lee Sunmi**

Hi! Is this Kim Yongsun-ssi? I got your number from Byulyi and wanted to talk to you about something. Would you be willing to meet with me? This is Lee Sunmi btw :) _12:09 pm_

She had received the message an hour ago and still hadn’t responded. Part of her wanted to tell this girl off. They weren’t friends. She had no reason to be messaging her. The other part of her, though, wanted to wait for Moonbyul to arrive so that she could question her about the message instead. Yongsun decided on the latter.

It had been two days since her bonding session with Wheein and Hyejin. Moonbyul hadn’t contacted any of them until much later that day—Yongsun ignored the message completely. The athlete tried communicating with her yesterday, insisting that they meet to talk because “things felt weird” the past week or so. Yongsun had wanted to ignore that message, too, but she genuinely missed her alone time with Moonbyul and realized that that was the root of her frustration, so she agreed to meet with the blonde today.

The graduate student’s phone buzzed a few minutes ago with a new text from Moonbyul. She was back at University Village and on her way up to Yongsun’s apartment. The latter took the limited time she had left to read over her notes once more. There were a few points she needed to address so she wrote them down. Moonbyul was a smooth talker and could steer a conversation into whichever direction she wanted to—she’d done it before with Yongsun. This was a way to prevent that from happening. The brunette refused to let her friend wiggle her way out of this; one way or another, she was going to hold Moonbyul accountable for her inconsiderate behavior.

A soft knock echoed throughout the room. Lifting herself up from the couch, Yongsun took her time walking to the door. Once opened, there, with a warm smile, stood Moonbyul bundled in a long black padded coat, a grey sweatsuit, black mask, and a cap.

“Are you warm enough?” Yongsun asked sarcastically before turning and heading back to the couch, not waiting for a response.

“Hi, unnie. I’m doing well, thank you so much for asking,” the athlete smartassed.

“I didn’t ask though.”

“You’re so upset you can’t even go through the motions of pleasantries, huh? I feel like you’re about to tear me a new one.” Her actions belied her words. Nothing she did showed her to be nervous or concerned in any way about the conversation they were about to have. Moonbyul removed her coat at a leisurely pace then headed to the kitchen to get some water. Yongsun watched as she finally made her way back to the living room, setting down her glass, as well as a filled glass she brought back for Yongsun.

The blonde sank down into the couch, legs spread. A cushion was left between them, which was fine by Yongsun.

“Why are you so far away?” Moonbyul whined.

“Because.” That was all Yongsun had to say. It irked her quite a bit that the other woman came in so carefree, as if her behavior wasn’t the reason they were in this situation in the first place. “How was your final?”

“Aww, you still care about me even though I made you mad. I think it went well. It felt like it went well, so we’ll see.”

“Was that your last one?”

“No, I have two more next week, but they’re not exams. A case study for _International Business Management_ and a paper for _Tech and Opportunities_. Can you edit that for me, please? You wouldn’t have to rush, it’s due on Wednesday. I read it over a bunch of times, but you’re much better at that stuff.” Yongsun nodded. She’d done this a few other times over the semester for Moonbyul, and even though she was mad at the moment, she wouldn’t leave her friend hanging like that.

She wondered if part of the reason Moonbyul was so comfortable was because the junior knew that Yongsun would do anything she asked. Even now, after over a week of canceling on her several times, Byulyi came in making light of everything instead of explaining herself.

“Why so serious?” Moonbyul reached over to relax Yongsun’s furrowed eyebrows. The graduate student moved her head back to prevent the athlete from succeeding in her mission.

“My face is serious because I’m serious.”

“Here we go,” Moonbyul rolled her eyes.

“Yes, here we go. You repeatedly canceled on me for more than a week. I don’t know what you’re used to, but that is rude. Then **you** messaged **me**, asking to talk about it, but instead of talking about it, you waltz in making jokes like everything is okay.” Yongsun was getting riled up, her words blurring together as the anger caused her to start speaking quicker. “It seems you’re starting to take me lightly, Byulyi. Maybe I’m too easy on you. That can change. Just say the word and that will change. Most of those times we were supposed to hang out were **your** ideas. If you already had plans with your little girlfriend, then don’t make plans with other people.”

“My little girlfriend? Who is my little girlfriend, unnie?” Yongsun hadn’t meant to say that part out loud, but it was out there. There was nothing she could do about it now. A big part of her found satisfaction, though, in how annoyed Moonbyul seemed by that comment. She smiled internally.

“The same girl you kept canceling on me for. The same girl that randomly messaged me today asking to meet. About that, don’t give strangers my phone number. I don’t know that girl, she’s not my friend. There’s no reason for her to have my number and you had no right to give it to her without asking me first.”

“She said she wants to get to know you better and asked for your number, so I gave it to her. It’s not a big deal,” Moonbyul shrugged.

Yongsun sat and counted her breaths. She didn’t know what it was about Moonbyul that got under her skin like this, but the younger woman was pissing her off with how dismissive she was being. Once she gathered herself, she responded in a forced calm voice.

“It’s not a big deal? Don’t tell me it’s not a big deal, Byulyi. Like I **just** said, that girl is not my friend. We’ve never interacted before. I don’t know her from a hole in the wall. Whatever you’re doing with her behind closed doors doesn’t make me and her friends. She’s a stranger to me. And don’t act bold with me about **my** number. You have your girls, that’s your business. Keep them away from me.”

“You want me to keep them a secret the same way you keep your **little boyfriend** a secret?” Moonbyul spat. Yongsun’s mouth nearly dropped open from shock, but she refused to give Moonbyul the pleasure of knowing that the comment affected her. She forcefully pursed her lips instead. Never before had Byulyi spoken to her this way. Her best friend attacking her like this in defense of some random girl was confirmation enough for Yongsun that something was indeed happening between Moonbyul and Sunmi.

“He’s not a secret. You’re the only person I don’t talk about him with.” Moonbyul flinched and Yongsun felt like an asshole. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go. All she wanted coming into this was an apology. Instead, she let her anger get the best of her. There was no way they would resolve this today.

The hurt on Moonbyul’s face rendered her speechless. Nothing she said now would make a difference, but Yongsun figured she’d try anyway.

“Byul-ah,” she choked out, “I’m sor-”

“I’m gonna go now,” Moonbyul interrupted her. She stood up and picked up her coat, all while avoiding eye contact. “We have practice later. I need to nap before that.”

“Byul-ah,” Yongsun tried again.

“Don’t worry about editing my paper. I’ll find someone else to do it.”

“Byul-ah.”

No response came. There were no histrionics, no yelling, no nothing. She just left, gently shutting the door behind her.

After a few minutes of sitting in stunned silence, Yongsun walked to her room, jumped into her bed, and covered herself from head to toe in her comforter. She replayed everything that transpired, looking for where she could have said and done things differently. Tired of thinking, she allowed the weight of her emotions to overtake her, which wasn’t much better because before she knew it, salty tears were trickling down her face.

She fell asleep crying over the state of her relationship with Moonbyul.

It was the first time. It wouldn’t be the last.

*

Upon waking from her slumber, Yongsun responded to Sunmi’s text. It was hours later, but she couldn’t care less. The girl should be happy that she got a response at all. Sunmi immediately responded afterwards, asking if they could meet the following day to talk something through. That was how Yongsun found herself currently at the SNU Café.

The two had agreed to meet at 2:30 pm. It was 2:35 pm. She had half a mind to leave and go about her business. She was curious, though, about what this girl wanted so badly to discuss. That kept her seated.

Another two minutes passed before the “influencer” showed up frazzled.

“I am **so** sorry, Yongsun-ssi. I had a meeting with a professor that took longer than anticipated. Again, I’m really sorry about that.” Yongsun stayed seated and said nothing. Noticing this, Sunmi continued, attempting this time to ingratiate herself with the brunette. “I know you probably don’t care. It makes sense. Your schedule must be so busy as a graduate student.”

Yongsun still said nothing. She busied herself instead with taking in the young woman before her. She’d considered Sunmi pretty upon first seeing her Instagram pictures, but watching her in person, the girl was beautiful. She was also taller than expected. A lot more awkward than Yongsun initially thought she’d be. Cute voice. Energetic. A welcoming energy about her. Yongsun wished, though, that the girl would get to the point so that she could go about her day. It seemed her prayers were being answered today because Sunmi did just that.

“I’ll get to the point. I want to throw a surprise party for Byulyi’s birthday and was hoping that you’d help me with some of the details.”

A sardonic laugh almost escaped Yongsun’s lips. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Sunmi enthusiastically responded. “I know there isn’t much time since her birthday is next Sunday, but I’d get everything together, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. One of my friends agreed to let me use her apartment in University Village, so we have somewhere to host it. I’d use mine, but I have a roommate. My friend has a single. Was planning on taking Byulyi somewhere beforehand, but was hoping you could tell me more about what she likes so I have a better understanding of where to take her and what gifts to get her.”

The more Sunmi’s lips moved, the more annoyed Yongsun grew. They weren’t speaking at the moment—in part because of Sunmi, actually—but Yongsun and Moonbyul had discussed the latter’s birthday a month ago.

_Moonbyul, as usual, came to Yongsun’s apartment after training. The two sat on the couch with some k-drama playing in the background. Gentle fingers playing in her hair made the athlete sigh contentedly._

_“That feels good, unnie.” Her head was in Yongsun’s lap, her eyes closed._

_“You always say that.”_

_“Because it always feels good,” the junior laughed._

_A comfortable silence filled the room until Yongsun remembered that Moonbyul’s birthday was a little over a month away. As one of her best friends, she’d be expected to do something special, but she had no idea what that should look like._

_“Byul-ah, what do you want to do for your birthday?”_

_It took some time, but Moonbyul eventually answered. “Nothing.”_

_“What do you mean nothing? It’s your birthday, you have to do something!”_

_“I don’t,” she shook her head. “I mean, I don’t want to go anywhere or anything like that. Maybe just a dinner at my apartment with the four of us and Heeyeon if she’s around, but it’s on a Sunday, so that makes things difficult.”_

_The timing was a little challenging, Yongsun thought. Moonbyul’s birthday was Sunday, December 22nd. Finals finished on Wednesday, December 18th, so it was expected that most people would leave campus on that Friday or Saturday to begin their month-long winter break. The basketball team got one week off before they had to return for trainings and games._

_“I leave for home on the 23rd, but if you’re here, you and I can spend it together.”_

_“You shouldn’t spend your birthday with me, Byul-ah.” It sounded wonderful to Yongsun, it did, but she didn’t want Moonbyul to feel obligated to say this simply because she asked about her birthday._

_“Why not? I love spending time with you. Even when we’re doing nothing, it’s fun. Healing. Re-energizing.”_

_The brunette bit back a smile. There was no way for Moonbyul to know, but her words warmed Yongsun’s heart. They spent a lot of time together, but Yongsun knew the athlete was very popular. A lot of people wanted some of her time and attention. For her to say that she only wanted to spend her birthday with Yongsun made her feel like the most important person in the world._

_“Okay,” Yongsun simply replied._

_“Okay,” Moonbyul copied her with a bright smile._

“She doesn’t want a party or anything.” Sunmi seemed to not have heard her, so Yongsun cleared her throat and spoke up again. “She doesn’t want anything for her birthday. I already asked her.”

“Everyone says that,” the junior laughed and waved Yongsun off, “she definitely wants something.”

“K.” There was zero reason for the two of them to be talking right now. This girl had already made her mind up that she was going to throw this party.

“Since I have your number, I’ll text you all of the details once they’re confirmed. I told her teammates, but I don’t know all of her friends. Would you mind telling others about this? Whoever you think should be there, tell them.”

“Cool.”

They seemed to be done, so Yongsun reached for her jacket at the back of her chair. She noticed, though, that Sunmi made no move to leave.

“Are we done?”

“For the most part, I guess.” This was the first time since they began talking that the girl sounded hesitant.

“You guess, or you know?” Yongsun’s query was gruff.

A few beats passed before Sunmi spoke up. “She talks about you a lot.” Yongsun lifted an eyebrow at her and Sunmi took that as an invitation to say more. “Moonbyul. She talks about you a lot. That’s how I knew you two were close. That’s why I asked for your number; I figured you’d be able to help.”

There it was. Yongsun had been wrong yesterday when she berated Moonbyul. There wasn’t anything official going on between the athlete and Sunmi, but Sunmi wanted there to be. Obviously. One doesn’t throw a surprise birthday party for someone they’ve only known for a week and a half unless there were feelings. Well, that’s what Yongsun thought, at least.

Sunmi called Yongsun here looking for answers on the nature of her relationship with Moonbyul.

If she wasn’t over it before, Yongsun was certainly over this girl now.

“At first, I thought that you two were dating,” a fake laugh followed her trap of a statement. “Whenever we met up to take pictures, it was like everything we did or said reminded her of you.” She said the last part while looking down at the table and playing with her fingers.

“Mmm.” Yongsun couldn’t care less about giving this girl the answers she was looking for and she certainly wasn’t concerned with making Sunmi feel better about herself.

“Yeah,” she wistfully added.

“Okay. I’m going to leave now. I have another meeting.” She didn’t.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Sunmi smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll make sure to follow-up with the details for next week.”

“Cool.”

That was that.

As she walked back to her apartment, Yongsun drafted a text and almost sent it to Byulyi—it was a reflex. A pang of sadness hit her as she remembered their situation and that they weren't on speaking terms.

She sent the message to Wheein and Hyejin instead.

**Yongsun**

You are _not_ going to believe what just happened. _3:06 pm_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.
> 
> Yell at me in the comments if you’d like. Let me know your thoughts. Was Yongsun doing too much? Was Moonbyul doing too little? I remember one person asked for Sunmi. Here she is.
> 
> Thank you everyone that has subscribed to this story! It didn’t register at first how many people had done so, but wow. Thank you so much!


	15. [M?] The Least She Could Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight mature content in this chapter.
> 
> *KBL: Korean Basketball League. The top professional male basketball league in South Korea. There’s a professional women’s league, too, the Women’s Korean Basketball League (WKBL).

_“He’s not a secret. You’re the only person I don’t talk about him with.” _

It was one thing knowing that Yongsun had a slick mouth. It was something else entirely being on the receiving end of her scathing verbal attacks. Exactly one week had passed since their fight, and not a day had gone by without Moonbyul remembering how far her stomach dropped when Yongsun said what she said about Jinyoung. She was frustrated in the moment and called him her “little boyfriend” out of anger, but she fully expected Yongsun to deny it. Not only did the graduate student not do that, she took it even further and said that Moonbyul was the only one kept out of the loop about what was going on with him. It stung. A lot.

Coach Ok’s shrill whistle jarred her from her thoughts. Free shoot was over.

“Bring it in,” Coach bellowed. Everyone made their way to the center of the court. She waited until players and staff had settled down before speaking again, her words clear and measured. “Great practice today. We know you all had a lot going on this past week with finals, so thank you for the focus and energy you brought to training each and every day. All the coaches got together and discussed it: we’re undefeated,” an outburst of cheers broke out before the team composed themselves. “We’re undefeated and we believe that that should be rewarded. In addition to the time you already have off, we’re giving you an extra two days. Training tomorrow morning and on Friday is canceled. Be smart and enjoy your break. We’ll see you on the 3rd of January. Heeyeon, take us home.”

Moonbyul couldn’t even enjoy the news. She listlessly said the cheer. Normally after practice, she’d get treatment with the trainers, take a shower, get dressed, then head to Yongsun’s apartment. That was no longer an option, so as most of the others left to find trouble to get into, she grabbed a basketball from the rack and headed to the furthest court to take some extra shots and run drills.

The goal she set for herself was to hit ten shots in a row from five different spots. On a scale of difficulty, it was low. It didn’t require her to think much, which was exactly what she needed right now. Shot after shot after shot swished through the net. Moonbyul was on autopilot. No thoughts about how Yongsun hadn’t messaged her. No thoughts about how Sunmi wouldn’t stop messaging her. None of it.

Get the rebound. Dribble out. Hit a move. Accelerate to the spot. Eyes on the center of the rim. Elbows straight. Elevate. Ball off the index and middle fingers. Hold the follow through. Swish. Repeat. Before she knew it, every shot from every spot had been made. Only twenty minutes had passed. She needed something more time-consuming.

Moonbyul was about to try fifteen shots in a row from the five spots before a voice interrupted her.

“You think you’re hot shit, huh?”

“Shut up, Yeonie,” she allowed herself to smile.

“Wanna play one-on-one?”

“Why not? It’s not like either of us has anything better to do. Game to eleven. Ones and twos. Take everything back. Defense calls the fouls.”

“Don’t be a dick on defense then. Every time we play and I back you down, you turn into a hack.”

“I do **not** turn into a hack. You fish for fouls!”

“Why would I fish for fouls against **you** in the paint?” Heeyeon asked in disbelief. “That doesn’t make any sense at all. I’m taller than you, and more skilled down there. Just say you’re a hack and go.” She walked to the top of the key and gestured for Moonbyul to give her the ball.

The next thirty minutes consisted of grunts, physical play, and trash talk. The competition was stiff.

“You can’t guard me, Byulyi,” Heeyeon taunted, sweat pouring down her face.

The score was 10-10.

“Okay, take the ball out and let’s see. It’s game to twelve by the way,” the shorter of the two huffed as she quickly lifted her training shirt to clear her eyes of perspiration.

“Since when?! We said game to eleven.”

“Win by two. It’s always win by two,” she nonchalantly declared.

“You’re full of shit. Just for that, I’m gonna hit a three in your face.”

“You’re not hitting a three in my face, Heeyeon,” the blonde responded, her tone firm. Her friend was a skilled basketball player, but there was no way in hell she was going to let Heeyeon disrespect her by shooting in her face.

The senior laughed as Moonbyul forcefully checked her the ball. She dribbled up a few steps before turning her back to Moonbyul, clinically backing her down. She took her time. Ball in her right hand, she continued dribbling, getting a feel for where Moonbyul was applying most pressure—her arm pressed into Heeyeon’s right hip. The taller girl could tell that Byulyi was trying to force her left. The senior chuckled before giving a hard feint left that sent Moonbyul in that direction, leaving her enough space and time to do whatever she wanted next. She heard a muttered “fuck” fall from her friend’s lips before she spun back to her right and executed a smooth step back to get behind the three point line. To rub it in some more, she shimmied her shoulders, holding eye contact with Moonbyul, who scrambled to recover and close her out. The junior tried her best, but by the time she ran out with a hand up, the ball was flying through the air, spiraling perfectly as it zipped through the net.

“I said,” Heeyeon yelled out loud as she boastfully approached Moonbyul with her arms spread, “you. Can’t. Guard. Me. Byulyi.”

“Get out of my face,” she pushed Heeyeon away.

“Sore loser.”

“Whatever,” Moonbyul rolled her eyes. “Do that in a game then talk to me.”

They put the ball away and headed to the locker room to shower.

“Instead of crying over Yongsun-unnie tonight, you can cry about this ass‑beating I just gave you.”

“Was that really necessary? You know I don’t want to talk about her.”

“That’s the problem. You don’t talk about the things you need to.” Moonbyul had eventually opened up and told Heeyeon the story a couple days after it happened. The senior thought it was a joke at first, that’s how stupid the situation sounded to her. “Look, we’ve already talked about it. You were wrong. You should’ve just owned up to it and apologized. Have you seen her since?”

Moonbyul nodded. “Yeah, once. In passing at UV. She completely ignored me. Looked the other way.”

“Damn. Just fix it, please,” Heeyeon was exasperated. “Message her, camp out in front of her door if you need to, whatever. Fix it. You’ve been miserable to live with this past week and I’m tired of it.”

“It’s not that eas-“

“Fix it!” At that, she turned and entered the shower room, leaving Moonbyul in the locker room to think things over.

*

On Monday, Sunmi informed Moonbyul that they’d be going out on Thursday. She told her to look nice and be ready for 5:00 pm.

It was Thursday. It was 5:00 pm. Moonbyul was ready and waiting in her apartment. She hoped her outfit was suitable for wherever it was that they were going—cream turtleneck sweater, dark wash jeans cuffed at the bottom, white sneakers, and a long burnt orange pea coat.

“Hey, ugly. You look cute.” Heeyeon could never give her a proper compliment. “Did she tell you where she was taking you?”

“Nope. Still no idea. I hope it isn’t anywhere over-the-top.”

“Trust your girlfriend. If she were taking you somewhere fancy, she’d have told you,” the senior laughed, setting her bowl in the sink.

“Heeyeon. It’s not funny. She’s not my girlfriend. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“You say that, yet she’s taking you on a secret adventure for your birthday. Maybe the two of you need to talk about the nature of your relationship. Oops,” she exaggeratedly covered her mouth, “that’s not your strong suit. I forgot.”

Heeyeon was clearly still annoyed at her for the cold war going on with Yongsun.

“I said I’d apologize to Yongsun-unnie, okay? I’ll fix it. Stop throwing it in my face.”

“Your stupidity didn’t only mess up your relationship with her, it affected mine, too. I like Yongsun-unnie. She puts you in your place, and she’s pretty, and she’s smart, and she’s fun. I miss her around here.” The pout adorning Heeyeon’s face made Moonbyul soften.

A knock at the door cut their conversation short. Before leaving the living room to answer the door, though, Moonbyul reassured her friend, “I’ll fix it. Promise.”

She swung the door open and was greeted by a blinding smile from Sunmi. Moonbyul had absolutely no idea what was planned for the day, but the woman’s unbridled excitement improved her mood and left her eager to find out what they’d be doing.

“Hi!” Sunmi squeaked.

“Hey,” Moonbyul coolly responded with a genuine smile. “Want to have mercy on me and tell me where we’re going?” It was a longshot, but her voice was hopeful regardless.

Sunmi shook her head before playfully locking her lips and throwing the key away.

“Wow! That’s how it is?” Moonbyul played as if she was hurt to which Sunmi laughed out loud. “I thought we were friends. Can’t believe this.”

She didn’t miss the way Sunmi’s smile dimmed a bit at her statement, and she was sure Sunmi caught the flash of confusion on her face in response to the taller woman extending a hand for Moonbyul to take. Holding hands wasn’t something they did. She didn’t want Sunmi to feel bad, though, and didn’t want their excursion together to start off awkwardly. Internally sighing, Moonbyul took the offered hand in her own and allowed Sunmi to pull her down the hall.

As they waited for the elevator, Moonbyul’s eyes scanned the area for Yongsun. She did the same as she and Sunmi, still hand in hand, walked through UV’s lobby and waited outside for the campus shuttle. There wasn’t much need for it, this she knew. Other than the one time they ran into each other after their fight—Yongsun was getting off the elevator as Moonbyul was getting onto it—Yongsun and Moonbyul had very different schedules. Unless they made an effort to see each other, which they clearly used to do, their paths wouldn’t cross. The thought of not seeing or interacting with Yongsun ever again hit Moonbyul hard. Others would probably say she was overreacting and being dramatic, but for her, it was plausible, something she’d often thought about. Yongsun was in graduate school. She had much bigger things to worry about than hanging out with some undergraduate athlete. And while the brunette had never said anything that hinted at it, Moonbyul frequently worried that Yongsun would find her immature or boring and get tired of being her friend. There was an influx of tagged pictures on Instagram of Yongsun and her ’91er friends; she’d been going out with them more amidst her separation from Moonbyul. What if, the blonde thought, she realized she had more fun with them and dropped Moonbyul fully to hang out with people her own age? Yes, there was only one year of age between them, but there was a huge difference in the lifestyle of a graduate student compared to that of an undergraduate.

Her musings lasted the entire shuttle ride to the SNU train station. She was grateful that Sunmi had let her be and hadn’t forced conversation. They got onto the Line 2 subway. Minutes into the ride, Sunmi hesitantly asked, “So, are you excited?”

Moonbyul felt horrible for being such a bad travel mate. Sunmi had probably gone through a lot of trouble planning this trip and here she was brooding. She needed to be better than this. “I am,” she answered. “You’ve been super secretive about this, so I’m curious as to what the big surprise is. Do I get a hint yet?”

“We’re almost there, so yes, you get a hint! Okay,” Sunmi excitedly clapped her hands together once, “word on the street is that you like basketball.” Moonbyul laughed loudly enough for other train-goers to look over judgmentally at the two university students.

“You could say that, I guess. I like it a little,” she played along.

“Yeah, that’s what I heard, so . . . I got us tickets to a KBL* game to watch the Seoul SK Knights play Ulsan Hyundai Mobis Phoebus. Our seats are in a suite. We’ll have unlimited drinks and they’re providing dinner, so we get to eat, too.”

Moonbyul was speechless. She knew of a few guys that played in the KBL—Kwon Jihun hosted training sessions for some of them and she was allowed to join a couple times—but had never before attended a KBL game despite wanting to. Moments like this made her realize how lucky she was to have people that cared so much about her. The blonde gently caressed Sunmi’s chin. “Thank you,” she said softly, hoping that the other girl could feel every ounce of sincerity and gratitude in her words.

Sunmi took that as an invitation to rest her head on Moonbyul’s right shoulder, and Moonbyul let her. She figured it was the least she could do.

“You like it?” Sunmi shyly asked.

“I love it. Seriously, thank you so much.”

They got off the train shortly after.

*

The game was a lot of fun. Sunmi had next to no understanding of basketball, so Moonbyul spent much of the game explaining things to her, but even that was fun. Both seemed to have a great time.

Once the game was over, they exited Jamsil Students’ Gymnasium. The basketball player walked in the direction of the train station, but felt herself tugged back by her companion for the night.

“I’m going to get us a cab,” Sunmi answered the blonde’s unspoken question.

“Oh, okay. If you want. I don’t have a problem taking the train, though.”

“I’m tired,” the raven-haired girl murmured. There was nothing Moonbyul could say to that. If she was tired, she was tired. They’d take a cab.

About thirty minutes later, they were back at UV. Moonbyul chuckled, making Sunmi look up curiously at her.

“What?”

“You said you were tired, but you’ve been typing furiously on your phone ever since we got in the cab.”

“I was texting one of my friends,” Sunmi responded smoothly. “She’s leaving for home tonight, but she has something I need, so we were trying to figure out if I’d get back before she left.”

“She’s leaving tonight? It’s already 9:40 pm. Isn’t it too late for someone to be traveling? And where does she live? I could go with you so that you’re not out at night by yourself.” She’d feel guilty if Sunmi and her friend missed each other because of her.

“Really? Thank you!” Sunmi pulled Moonbyul into a brief hug. “She lives here in UV, on the second floor. It’ll be quick. We can head to my room afterwards.” No time was given for the blonde to say anything in response. Sunmi dragged her past the security guards and through the courtyard that led to the second tower. They were silent as they rode the elevator to the second floor. Moonbyul followed obediently as Sunmi walked to one of the doors at the furthest end of the hall. A couple knocks later, the door opened and Byulyi was met with a roar from inside.

“SURPRISE!”

*

Twenty-five minutes into her surprise party, Moonbyul was **still** greeting and thanking people for coming. The apartment was packed. She’d lost Sunmi almost immediately after they entered due to the number of people approaching to wish her a happy birthday. Most of these people she didn’t know, but she still treated them as if she did—they’d taken the time to join in the celebration, it was the least she could do.

Finally, she made her towards the back of the apartment and saw Wheein and Hyejin chatting amongst themselves. As they saw her approach, their faces lit up.

“Unnie! Happy early birthday!” Wheein energetically screamed, rushing to hug Moonbyul.

“Happy early birthday, Byul-unnie!” Hyejin joined in the hug.

“Thank you. You both knew about this and didn’t say anything?!”

“That’s why it’s called a surprise, unnie,” Wheein said, rolling her eyes.

Both girls noticed Moonbyul’s eyes furiously searching the apartment.

“She was here,” Hyejin gently reassured her. “She had to leave for a moment to take care of something. She’ll be back.”

Byulyi leveled a grateful look at the both of them for knowing who she was looking for without her having to say it. Wheein and Hyejin pulled her to one of the apartment’s corners where they could all hear each other better.

“We don’t like it when you two fight, unnie. The both of you are better than this.”

“Are we?” Moonbyul asked genuinely. She and Yongsun were both quick to anger and had difficulty communicating their feelings.

“You are,” Hyejin confirmed in a tone that told Moonbyul there was no space for disagreement. “You care a lot for each other. Once you both learn that it doesn’t make you weak to put your pride aside for the people you love, these rough patches will be fewer and farther between.”

She mulled over Hyejin’s words for a moment. Before a response could leave her lips, she felt arms wrap around her neck from behind.

“I thought I lost you,” Sunmi crooned into her ear.

Moonbyul steadied her before saying, “Nope. I’m right here.” Wheein and Hyejin struggled mightily to not react.

“I’m sorry. Hi, I’m Sunmi,” she introduced herself.

“Wheein.”

“Hyejin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Wheein and Hyejin! Apologies for interrupting. Byulyi, when you get the chance, there are a few people I want you to meet.” Moonbyul nodded and Sunmi disentangled herself, going back about her business.

Seconds of silence passed. The eldest of the three noticed her friends’ annoyed faces.

“We’re not dating, by the way,” she said. Their skeptical faces urged her to speak more convincingly. “I swear on it. Nothing’s happening between us. That’s just how she is. There’s nothing extra going on.”

“Yes,” Wheein started, “that’s why we’re at a surprise party that she threw for you.”

“That’s how she is, Wheein-ah. I’m telling you, she does that type of stuff for her friends.”

“You’re not friends,” Hyejin put her foot down. “You met her a couple weeks ago.”

“This unnie likes to play dumb. Let her be, Hyejin.”

“I’m not playing dumb!”

“So you’re **actually** dumb then? That’d be more believable. Only dumb people could be **this** dumb.”

“Dumb and dense,” Wheein added.

“Okay, you two. Thank you. Let me go see what this girl wants,” she sighed. “I’ll find you a bit later, okay?”

*

She had met who Sunmi had wanted her to meet then found her teammates. They were drunk and rowdy. She’d expect nothing less from them. It was one of the few times in-season that they were allowed to drink heavily without getting in trouble.

“Unnie,” one of them called her, “where’s wifey?” Laughter erupted from the group at the well-known nickname people used for Yongsun.

Plenty of people on campus had taken notice of Moonbyul hanging out with Sunmi. No one knew the true nature of her relationship with the girl because, except for a couple blips when she first arrived at SNU, Moonbyul kept her love life private—she only ever confided in her best friends. As such, people were throwing rumors out left and right: Yongsun was her “main chick,” but she was cheating on her with Sunmi; Yongsun knew about Sunmi and was okay with it as long she remained “wifey”; Yongsun found out about Sunmi and dumped Moonbyul. It was all stupid. A lot of nonsense that she found harmless and idiotic, but that she desperately hoped would never reach Yongsun’s ears. There was a lot of noise around the nature of her relationship with Yongsun, a lot of noise around Yongsun altogether—people were interested in her. Very interested. Moonbyul’s protectiveness and refusal to let anyone close to the graduate student only further fanned that interest, but the athlete didn’t care. She felt it her duty to shield her unnie from all of that.

“Okay, okay, it’s her birthday celebration,” Heeyeon came to Moonbyul’s rescue. “I know it’s hard, trust me, it’s hard, but we’re not going to clown her today or on her actual birthday. After that, she’s fair game, so make sure to write all your jokes down.”

Her team members went back to their antics as Heeyeon pulled Moonbyul aside.

“Seriously, though, where is Yongsun-unnie? She didn’t come?”

“Wheein and Hyejin said she was here but had to leave for something. I don’t know if she came back yet.”

“Oh! There she is! She’s with the two of them on the other side of the room. Go talk to her, Byul!” Heeyeon gently pushed Moonbyul in their direction.

“What am I supposed to say?” Moonbyul asked with slight panic.

“You’ve been miserable and grumpy and, frankly, no fun to be around since the two of you fought. Think of something as you walk over there.”

As she tends to, Moonbyul did as she was told and headed towards the three of them. She’s not perfect, so yes, a tiny part of her hoped that Yongsun would look miserable, but nope. She looked beautiful. Her hair was up in a bun and she wore a cream crop top sweater, dark wash skinny jeans, and red lipstick. Their outfits matched a bit. Funny. Moonbyul got closer and saw her Ryan slippers. She almost laughed out loud. Almost.

Warily walking up to her, Moonbyul uttered her brilliant conversation starter.

“Hi.”

Yongsun grunted in response.

“You two can be so annoying! We’re leaving you alone to talk. Figure it out.” It seemed Wheein and Hyejin were over her and Yongsun’s antics. Moonbyul tried again to strike up conversation.

“You look really good.”

“Thanks.”

The blonde chuckled slightly. “You’re really making me work for this, huh? Can we talk, please?”

“We’re already talking.”

“In private. Outside.”

“Whatever.”

She’d take it. Moonbyul was perfectly okay with the clipped responses because for all the attitude Yongsun was trying to give, she still let the athlete take her hand and lead her through the crowd to the door. Byulyi could tell that the brunette wanted to fix this as much as she did. Once outside, she took a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness—the apartment had been dimly lit—before leading Yongsun down the hall into an open space near the elevator. There wouldn’t be any prying ears there, she thought.

Satisfied with the area, Moonbyul turned to face Yongsun, and immediately pulled the older woman into a tight hug. Yongsun accepted it—something Byulyi was extremely relieved about—and burrowed her face into the athlete’s chest. She was too short to reach Moonbyul’s neck and Byulyi found that too cute.

“I missed you, Yong. I missed you so much,” she whispered honestly.

“Me, too,” she heard the brunette mutter into her chest.

“Let’s not do this shit again, okay?” Moonbyul held Yongsun by her shoulders, keeping her at an arm’s length away so that the graduate student could see how serious she was. “We can’t keep fighting like this. I don’t like it.”

“I know. I don’t like it either.” A few beats passed before Yongsun continued, looking up a bit ashamed. “I’m sorry, Byul. I’m so sorry for everything I said. I was hurt and I let my anger get the best of me. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

Moonbyul watched as Yongsun’s eyes turned glassy, eventually giving way to a few soft tears trailing down her cheek. “Shhh, don’t cry,” she said as she grabbed the brunette’s face with both hands, gently wiping the tears away with the pads of her thumbs.

She pulled Yongsun into another firm hug, caressing her hair. “If someone sees us, they’re gonna think I broke your heart or something.”

“You kind of did,” Yongsun sniffled.

“Ugh, I’m the worst,” the blonde playfully responded. It got a small chuckle out of Yongsun, though, making her feel accomplished. Yongsun pushed away from her just then, roughly wiping away her remaining tears.

“You’re the best, Byul-ah. Not the worst.”

It felt damn good to hear her name falling from Yongsun’s lips like that again. It’d been too long. Moonbyul started to walk back down the hall before gesturing for Yongsun to follow. Reaching her right hand out for the brunette to take, she said, “Come. Let’s go back. We have to talk it all out after the party though, okay? Everything. We have to talk it out.”

Yongsun eagerly grabbed her hand with a breathtaking smile. “Okay.”

As they walked off, Moonbyul had one last question. “I assume she reached out to you about this. How could you let her throw this party? I told you I didn’t want anything.”

“I told her,” Yongsun whined. “She refused to listen. It’s not my fault.”

“It is. You were supposed to stop her. You failed me.”

“Don’t say that,” Yongsun, once again, whined.

“I’m disappointed. Expected better from you.”

The athlete panicked a bit when she felt Yongsun let go of her hand, but relaxed when she felt arms wrap around her waist and stomach. Looking down, she saw the most adorable brown eyes looking up at her with a pouting face.

“Byul-ah, don’t say that. I tried. She wouldn’t listen.”

Moonbyul lazily slung her right arm around Yongsun’s shoulders and dipped her head to place a soft kiss at the top of her unnie’s head. “You’re so cute.”

They made it back to the party soon after and parted ways. Yongsun went to rejoin Wheein and Hyejin. Moonbyul went to see if Sunmi needed anything from her.

*

As it turned out, Sunmi did need something from Moonbyul. She hadn’t specified what exactly it was, just that she needed Moonbyul to follow her to her apartment on the fourth floor. The athlete would have preferred to finally sit Yongsun down so that they could clear the air, but Sunmi had put a lot of work into the night. The least she could do was this last favor.

Sunmi scurried to her room as soon as they entered her apartment. Moonbyul made herself at home on the couch in the living room. She pulled out her phone and began texting all her friends, letting them know that she had left the party for good. She also made sure to thank them for the part she was sure they played in helping to orchestrate everything.

“I’m back,” Sunmi sang.

“Cool. Did you find whatever it was you were looking for,” Moonbyul asked. Her eyes were on her phone as she finished a text to Heeyeon. She put it away afterwards, wanting to give Sunmi her full attention. She noticed that the other girl had changed out of her sweater dress into shorts and a tank top, but quickly disregarded it as Sunmi started talking.

“I did! Here,” she pulled out a gift bag from behind her back, “I got this for you.”

“Sunmi,” Byulyi breathed. “You’ve already done way more than necessary. I can’t in good conscience accept this.”

“Yes. You can. I did this for you because you deserve it. Open it. Please.” Moonbyul hesitated, but ended up taking the bag.

“Sunmi, I can’t. This is too much.” It was a camera and a lens. A Nikon D3500.

“It’s not,” she gently countered, stalking closer until she stood in between Moonbyul’s legs. “You have a really good eye, Byulyi, and no matter what happens between us, I think you deserve to have a camera of your own. There were a few others I was going to buy, but they were **much** more expensive. I knew you’d refuse them. This one is a good starter camera.”

“Sunmi. This is **a lot**.”

“It’s really not. Let yourself have good things, Byulyi.” Sunmi moved the bag and its contents to the side and brazenly straddled Moonbyul. “Let yourself have good things,” she whispered into the blonde’s ear.

She hadn’t yet recovered from the feeling of Sunmi’s hot breath in her ear when the sensations of lips on her neck registered. They were soft, and tender, and following a very enchanting route: from her neck to her ear to her jaw . . . to her neck to her ear to her jaw.

Moonbyul’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her chest rapidly rose and fell as shallow breaths escaped her lips. It felt **so** good. Despite what many thought, it had been **so** long. So, so, so long since she had any type of sexual interaction with someone. Maybe she did deserve this.

Up until that point, she had done nothing but sit there and allow Sunmi to attack her neck. When the girl started sensually grinding on her, though, Moonbyul’s hands instinctively found a home on her hips, grip tight.

“Fuck,” she mumbled. Sunmi halted her actions and sat up to stare intently into Moonbyul’s half-lidded and lust-filled eyes.

“Happy birthday, Byul,” she coyly purred, an impish smile growing as she saw the athlete’s eyes trained intently and exclusively on her lips. Giving her what she seemed she wanted, Sunmi leaned in and ghosted her lips over Moonbyul’s before quickly backing away.

“Don’t tease,” Moonbyul pleaded, her voice barely audible. She tightened her grip on Sunmi’s waist, encouraging her to do what she’d been doing earlier. The black-haired woman complied, and Byulyi drowned in the overwhelming sensation of hips gyrating on her, wet kisses on her neck, and Sunmi’s firm breasts pressed against her—she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath her tank top. It was all gone within a few seconds as Sunmi pulled away. “What’s wrong?” Sunmi shook her head.

“Nothing. Let’s go to my room.”

**That** woke her up.

Moonbyul sat up straight and removed her hands from Sunmi as if she had been burned. Both hands, instead, began roughly scrubbing her face. She couldn’t do this. Well, she could. It was more that she **shouldn’t** do this. Moonbyul let out a massive sigh before reluctantly meeting Sunmi’s eyes.

“We can’t.” It sounded as if it pained her to say this. In a way, it did.

“Yes, we can,” Sunmi countered, wrapping her arms around Moonbyul’s neck and dipping her head for a kiss. The blonde turned her head away at the last second.

“We can’t,” Moonbyul said more resolutely this time.

“Why not? You don’t find me attractive?” She hated this. She hated that Sunmi was starting to blame herself.

“You’re **very** attractive,” Moonbyul drawled as her eyes took their time scanning Sunmi’s body. She made sure to maintain eye contact as she continued talking though. “Very. I’m just . . . not looking for anything right now, and I don’t really do one-night stands.” What she didn’t say, was how dangerously close she was to breaking that rule in the moment. She was **so** close to somehow rationalizing it, finding a way to make it okay to do with Sunmi what Sunmi seemed like she wanted to do with her.

“It doesn’t have to be a one-night stand and it doesn’t have to be a relationship.” This girl was saying all the right things. Moonbyul closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

“Sunmi. Please.” She was not above begging for understanding right now. “We can’t. I’m not going to do the fuck buddy or friends-with-benefits thing with you. You deserve better than that.”

It felt like an eternity passed before either of them spoke again.

“You’re really doing this?” Sunmi asked in disbelief. She was trying her best to steady her voice, but the pain was clear. Moonbyul had to look away. She couldn’t watch her cry.

“I should go.” She carefully guided Sunmi off of her before lifting herself from the couch.

Moonbyul made it to the door when she heard Sunmi croak out, “You forgot your present.”

“I don’t think that’s a goo-”

“Just take it,” she whispered, “I don’t want it.”

Nodding in understanding, Moonbyul headed back over to grab the gift bag from Sunmi’s perfectly manicured hands.

“Thank you,” she awkwardly added, before turning and heading out the door.

*

Back in her room, Moonbyul took her phone out. It had been on silent the entire time she was at Sunmi’s. There were a ton of missed calls and unread messages, the most recent from Yongsun:

**From: Yongdunnie**

I know you didn’t really want a big party, but I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight. You deserve being surrounded by that much love. Grateful to have you back in my life and I’m really sorry I acted like such a brat before. _2:07 am_

Moonbyul had to smile. What she needed to do was take a shower. What she did instead was lay on her bed and video call her best friend. It rang for a bit before familiar brown eyes and a groggy smile filled the screen.

“No, no, don’t hide your face now.”

“I don’t have makeup on.”

“So what? I’ve seen you without it before. You’re still cute.”

“Shut up,” Yongsun whined.

“Music to my ears! I’ve missed your whining.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Moonbyul softly confirmed. “Why are you texting me novels after two in the morning?”

“Why are still up after two in the morning to see the novel that I texted you?” She quirked an eyebrow at Moonbyul.

“Touché.”

“I love how you say touché and then are going to completely ignore my question.”

“It’s tradition. You ask questions, I ignore them.”

“Uh uh, we agreed to talk about things, not bottle them up.”

“You’re cute.”

“Stop trying to distract me by being flirty, Byul-ah.” She was pouting now.

“Why are you still up?”

“Why are **you** still up?”

“I was actually going to shower and go to sleep, then I saw your message. You sound like you’re afraid I’m going to run away or something.”

“Who knows, maybe you will.” This was one of those moments where it seemed like Yongsun was joking, but she was serious.

“Never. We’re in this for life. You can’t get rid of me even if you try.”

“Oh yeah?” Yongsun giggled.

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“When are we having our talk?” Yongsun asked.

“Tomorrow? Is that fine with you?”

“Tomorrow? You mean today? It’s already Friday. Not doing much of anything today, so that’s fine. Come whenever.”

“Don’t say that, I’ll show up at the crack of dawn.”

“You’re annoying,” Yongsun rolled her eyes, but donned an adorable smile nonetheless.

“Oh yeah?” Moonbyul smiled back.

“Yeah.”

“Whatever. Random, but who was that girl wearing the plaid shirt that was talking to you at the party earlier?”

“Which one? Oh! Wait, I know which one you’re talking about . . . ”

Moonbyul's shower was long forgotten. The two stayed on the phone for another hour talking about nothing and everything. But mostly nothing.


	16. Back to Normal

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” Heeyeon called from the couch. “Did you get laid last night?” She asked while wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Not even. Last night was a **mess**,” Moonbyul said as she plopped herself next to her roommate.

“I love messes! Tell me more.” Heeyeon clicked off their television and turned excitedly to give the blonde her full attention.

Moonbyul told her everything that happened with Sunmi, from the KBL game all the way to what transpired after the party. She spared no detail. She never did with Heeyeon. When it came to these types of things, well, when it came to almost anything, really, these two were completely honest with each other. Moonbyul always gave Wheein and Hyejin a general overview of what was going on in her love life, but Heeyeon was the one person that knew **everything**.

“Pretty sure Sunmi hates me now.”

“As she should,” the ash-brown haired woman laughed. “You **had** to have seen that coming, Byulyi. She was all over you for a few weeks straight. She wanted you. It was obvious.”

“I really didn’t expect it, though. Don’t,” she started at the incredulous look on Heeyeon’s face, “don’t make that face. I’m being serious.”

“**How** did you not expect that?!”

“I just didn’t,” she shrugged. “She’s super rich and semi-Instagram famous. She could have whoever she wants. There was no reason for me to believe she’d be after me.”

“You’re the biggest, most well-known athlete at SNU, you’re most likely on your way to the Olympics, and you’re making a name for yourself in the world of international athletics. Not to mention you’re hot. Why wouldn’t she want you?”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Moonbyul sighed.

“Yeah, because you rejected her. I still can’t believe you did that,” Heeyeon thought out loud in disbelief.

“I can’t believe I did that either. She’s **so** hot, Heeyeon.” Moonbyul covered her face and mouth with her hands but continued speaking, voice muffled, “Why did I do that? Sex with her is probably mind-blowing.”

“I bet. She strikes me as the freaky type. Very, very freaky. **And** it was part of your birthday celebration? Without question she would’ve let you do whatever you wanted to her.”

“Now you’re just rubbing it in.”

“That’s what she would’ve said.”

Moonbyul’s thoughts kept her company as Heeyeon left to her room for a few minutes before returning with her laptop in hand.

“Stop overthinking yourself to death. Let it go, it’s over, done. No point in dwelling on the past. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone down the line who’s even freakier.”

“Doesn’t really matter. You know I don’t do the one-night stand thing,” she added forlornly.

“I don’t know, always felt like you’ve been putting too much pressure on yourself with that rule of yours. You’re young, live a little, y’know? If the only time you’re going to have sex is when you’re in a relationship or dating someone, you’re not going to have a lot of sex, Byulyi. Especially with how picky you are. You get tired of people too quickly for all that.”

“I’m not picky,” she grew defensive.

“Are you shitting me? You lose interest in people **so** quickly and you turn the **smallest** things into a problem, but that’s another conversation. The point is, not everyone that shows interest in you even wants to be in a relationship. Some people just want to fuck, and there’s nothing wrong with that. If both of you are on the same page and you think their interest in you is genuine, at least consider it as an option. Sunmi wasn’t wrong when she told you to let yourself have good things. Yes, she was referring to herself as the ‘good things’ you should have,” Heeyeon chuckled, “but the point remains. It’s okay if you indulge a little every now and then. That’s just my opinion, though. You do whatever you feel is best for you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You won’t.”

“I will.”

She took a minute to gather her thoughts before realizing that Heeyeon was hooking her computer up to their television.

“What are you doing?” She asked curiously.

“Going to watch some WNBA playoff games from last year. Want to join?” The two frequently watched games from men’s and women’s professional basketball leagues around the world. Russia, Spain, the United States, they didn’t care. If they could get their hands on some game film, they were more than excited to watch.

“For a little bit,” she responded, nose in her phone. “Have to head to Yong’s so we can finally talk about everything, but that’s not for another half hour. Which game are you watching first?”

Heeyeon didn’t respond, so she asked again. Once again, no response came. Moonbyul finally looked up from her phone to see the senior smiling cheekily at her.

“What?”

“Yong? That’s cute.”

“Shut up, Heeyeon.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s cute that she lets you call her ‘Yong’ now. No more ‘unnie,’ huh? The two of you are **that** close?”

“All you do is ask about me and Yongsun-**unnie**. What about you and that man you were seeing?”

“Still seeing him,” she disclosed nonchalantly. “Not sure how much longer it’ll last, though. He seems to want things to become more serious, but I can’t handle that. Don’t have the time.”

“How can you say that so casually?” Byulyi asked, a little jealous at how easily her friend could detach herself from the emotions of relationships.

“I’m being honest. Between my studies, basketball, and graduate school applications, a relationship isn’t really on my mind. I don’t even know which country I’ll be living in a year from now, why would I start a proper relationship with someone?”

Heeyeon had been seeing a man named Kim Junsu for about four months. They met during one of her nights out. From what she had told Moonbyul, she thought it would be something casual, something that would have fizzled out. Four months later, it was still going.

She didn’t go out of her way to introduce him to any of her friends, but Moonbyul had met Junsu a few times. He seemed like a nice enough man that was super interested in Heeyeon. As long as he respected her friend, she was fine with him. Heeyeon could handle herself.

“Well, a wise friend of mine once said to do whatever you feel is best for you. Be safe with him and do what you need to. How are the applications going? Heard back from anywhere?” Heeyeon made the decision last year to apply to Master of Business Administration (MBA) programs both domestic and abroad. Moonbyul knew how challenging it was at times for her during the Fall semester—balancing a rigorous Business major, graduate school entrance exams, and travel for basketball was not an easy feat. She had done it, though, and within a couple weeks, she’d know if it all paid off.

“Haven’t heard back yet, but since I applied early, decisions should be coming soon. SNU is definitely my number one choice, but I’d be grateful to get in anywhere. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I’ll need you to give me tips to make the process go smoothly. Seriously considering going the graduate school route, too. MBA programs.”

“This girl can’t help but copy me,” Heeyeon playfully rolled her eyes.

“You caught me. I want so badly to be like you in every way,” Moonbyul deadpanned. “Except the part about you being straight. Yuck.”

“I had to have **one** flaw, otherwise I’d be perfect. Who knows though, that, too, may change. It’s 2:55 pm by the way. Almost time for your little chat with ‘Yong.’”

Moonbyul immediately got off the couch and headed to the shoe rack by their apartment door.

“Gotta blast.”

“You’re so whipped. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m convinced you just say things to hear the sound of your own voice. How am I whipped because I want to be on time for a meeting with someone? Weirdo.”

“She’s not just ‘someone,’ she’s ‘Yong’. A year from now when you two are happily in a relationship, I’ll be sure to let you know that I told you so.”

“You’re a dreamer. You dream a lot. Anyway, don’t watch Phoenix vs. Seattle yet, I want to watch it with you. Pick another series.”

That was the last they spoke before the junior headed out.

*

Despite their last “talk” having gone awry, Moonbyul felt light on her walk over to Yongsun’s apartment. Optimistic. Their brief heart-to-heart during the party left her confident that they were both in this friendship for better or for worse. She knew that the graduate student cared about her, but she also couldn’t help at times feeling like a nuisance. Feeling like she was bothering her friend by always messaging and following after her. As such, Yongsun’s emotional outburst the day before had completely taken her by surprise. What it also did, though, was make Moonbyul feel a bit better about herself. She felt wanted and fully appreciated by Yongsun.

The door to the apartment creaked lightly as she eased it open. A short text was sent to Yongsun a few minutes ago instructing the older woman to leave the door ajar.

“Yoooooooong. Where are you?” The living room was empty. Yongsun had to be in her bedroom, but Moonbyul wanted to get her playfulness out while she still had the chance. She figured there’d be no room for it once they got down to business.

Not even three seconds passed before a wild-haired Yongsun emerged from the bedroom with wide eyes and lips quirked in surprise. “You’re here already?”

“I told you I’d be here in a few seconds.”

“You always say that, but you don’t always get here in a few seconds.”

“Yet you still left your door open for me.”

“Because you told me to.”

Her heart unexpectedly and instantly warmed at that statement. For all Yongsun knew, it could have taken Moonbyul another ten minutes to arrive, yet she still left the front door to her apartment open, no questions asked, because the athlete ‘told her to.’

“Come here.” The blonde pulled Yongsun to her, wrapping her arms around the shorter woman’s upper back as the brunette wrapped hers around Byulyi’s waist. A few beats later, Moonbyul pulled away a bit to run her fingers through the brunette’s hair. “What’s going on with this?” She asked softly.

Yongsun completely disentangled herself and headed to the living room couch. “I don’t know,” she pouted, “it’s been like this all day. It won’t be tamed.”

“It’s okay. It makes you look cuter.” A few light hits to her shoulder drew strong laughs from the athlete. An awkward silence filled the room once her laugh died down. “So . . . are we going to talk about everything? I don’t know where to start so I’ll follow your lead.”

The two were settled on the couch facing each other. Moonbyul noticed Yongsun’s lips twisted in contemplation, a sign that she’d need time to process her thoughts. The athlete’s attention turned instead to the muted variety show playing on the television. Yongsun would let her know when she was ready.

“We’re talking again and I don’t want to dwell on the past,” Yongsun started timidly, “but a lot of what happened frustrated me, Byulyi. As I said yesterday, I was really hurt.” She said all of this while playing with the hair tie on her wrist. The junior gestured for her to continue, so she spoke up again. “Look, I understand that I’m not your only friend or the only person you hang out with, and I get that you have **a lot** of other things to balance. That’s fine. It really is. But I ask that you respect my time like I respect yours. People ask me to hang out with them and I turn them down if I’ve already made plans with you. Sometimes they give me **so** much shit for it, but still I honor our commitments. It felt like I wasn’t getting that same consideration in return, like our friendship kept getting brushed aside in favor of this new relationship you have. I don’t know . . . I guess I felt like an afterthought, and that surprised me because I thought we were better than that. And then to top it off, after **you** reached out to me last week to talk about it, you came in making jokes like anything was funny. It felt like I was being taken lightly.”

Just as Yongsun’s outburst the day before had surprised Moonbyul, so, too, did the raw emotion in the older woman’s voice. By no means did she think things were fully resolved between the two of them—they were having this talk for a reason—but the way Yongsun had so easily slipped back into banter and physical closeness with her made Moonbyul think that the former was relatively removed from the emotions of everything. Clearly, she was wrong. The look on Yongsun’s face told her as much.

“Look, I’m sorry, Yong. I apologize.” The response was genuine, but she cringed at hearing herself say it. After everything Yongsun had said, how emotionally vulnerable and transparent she was, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ paled in comparison.

The brunette slowly nodded her head, acknowledging that she had heard Moonbyul, but gave no verbal response.

“I know that was weak,” she sighed, “but I am sorry. I don’t know, all of you started asking me about the Sunmi thing, but that wasn’t anything romantic. At all.” There were extremely valid explanations for what happened, and most of them had nothing to do with Sunmi. For whatever reason though, before getting into any of that, she felt compelled to clear up the nature of her relationship with the Communications major.

Moonbyul explained how they had met in the first place. She was having a conversation in the lobby of their building with one of the male security guards. Sunmi was passing by and momentarily interrupted the conversation to greet and joke with him—the guard later explained that they were close. He introduced the two of them and then the two-person conversation turned into a three-person conversation. During that chat, photography came up and the athlete mentioned that she had recently gotten serious about photography as a hobby. Sunmi disclosed that she was a model and that she’d be happy to introduce Moonbyul to some photographers she knew. That was it.

“After that day, I’d tag along to some of her photoshoots and she’d get some of her photographer friends to walk me through what they were doing and why. That’s all. That whole time I kept flaking on you or leaving early was a mess. Most of it had nothing to do with her. I wasn’t intentionally ‘brushing you aside,’ and it certainly wasn’t for any ‘new relationship’. There were a couple group projects I had, and because Coach kept making practice run longer than usual, I’d have to meet with group members later than originally planned, then that would cut into the time we were supposed to spend together. Other times, Sunmi would tell me last minute that she had a shoot, and I didn’t want to make a bad impression, especially since she was doing me a favor, so I’d say yes. That would cut into our time, too. It was a bunch of things that contributed to me having to leave so soon after getting to your place or cancel altogether. But I knew we were seeing each other less and I **promise** you that it was my intention to make it up to you once we got to winter break. I swear I was going to make it up to you.”

“Why couldn’t you just say that at the time? I would have understood. You make it seem like I’m some irrational person.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad at me.” A wry laugh from Yongsun interrupted her. “Yeah, I know. Ironic, but it’s the truth. I’m not the best at dealing with confrontation, which is not an excuse, I know that. In my mind, though, I was just trying to get through everything and hold onto enough of our friendship so that I could make it up to you later.”

Nerves ate her up as Yongsun simply stared at her stoically. It was impossible to gauge what the response would be, but she’d done what she could and told her truth. After what seemed like forever, the graduate student let out a deep sigh, eyes and voice softening.

“Instead of planning inside your own head to make it up to me, you could have told me about everything that was going on, Byul-ah.” More than anything, it seemed Yongsun was disappointed in her. That stung worse than had the brunette been upset with her again.

“I promise I will next time.”

“There better not be a next time,” she said sternly while maintaining eye contact.

“Yes, ma’am!” Byulyi exclaimed, playfully saluting her friend.

“You’re so annoying!”

“But you still love me,” she shrugged.

“Who said that?”

“Don’t do that. Tell me you love me, Yong.”

“I know nothing about that.”

Naturally, they got derailed and ended up bickering over the fact that Yongsun refused to tell Moonbyul that she loved her. Once they settled down—Yongsun still hadn’t said it—the athlete circled back to one of their earlier topics.

“You were right about Sunmi, though.”

“What about her?”

“She liked me.”

Yongsun rolled her eyes before dignifying that statement with a response. “Obviously.”

“Not to me! I thought it was all about photography and maybe making a new friend.”

“I thought it was all about photography and maybe making a new friend,” Yongsun mocked her. “Grow up, Byulyi.”

“I’m serious.”

“So all the pictures of you that she posted to her social media told you that she wanted to be friends only? Her throwing you a surprise birthday party after knowing you for a few weeks was friendship only?”

Moonbyul hadn’t told Yongsun about the KBL game and figured it’d only do more harm than good to bring it up now.

“Okay. I get it. After what happened after the party, I see what was really going on.”

“What happened?”

“Uh . . . nothing, really. I mean, nothing that was a big deal. She asked me to go back to her place, so I did. She gifted me a camera.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“What don’t you believe?”

“That she brought you to her place after one in the morning to only give you a camera. I’m not naïve, Byulyi. You do what you do with women, and that’s fine. There’s no need to lie about it.”

Seconds passed as Moonbyul debated how much of the truth she should tell. Even more passed as she wondered why she was contemplating not telling the full truth in the first place.

“She got on my lap and tried to kiss me, but I got her off of me before anything actually happened.” Technically, not a lie.

“She **tried** to kiss you?” Yongsun wasn’t buying it. The skepticism in her voice was clear. “You’re telling me Sunmi, a model, got on your lap at that time of morning, and no kissing happened? Nothing at all happened?”

“No kissing happened. Nothing at all happened.” Why she was lying, Moonbyul had no idea. It instinctively slipped out of her mouth and she couldn’t take it back now.

“Sounds fake.”

“I swear.” Why she was doubling down on something so trivial, she had **no** idea. All she could do now was hope this didn’t come back to bite her.

“If you say so,” she still sounded skeptical, but the athlete was relieved when Yongsun finally dropped it.

“What about you and Jinyoung? Not gonna lie, everything you said about that situation stung a bit.”

“Again, I’m sorry for that. I let my anger get the best of me and I lashed out. You don’t understand **how** **frustrated** I was with everything. It felt like I was suffocating and drowning in anger. I had no one to talk to about it since I usually go to you with stuff. Wheein and Hyejin had their studies and **since they communicated that**, I didn’t want to stress them out with this. Chorong hates you—sorry, she does—and Eric would have understood, but it would’ve been too embarrassing taking this to him. He certainly would have been helpful, I’m sure of it. Anyway, I don’t talk about Jinyoung with you because I know you don’t like him. You haven’t outright said it, but you always roll your eyes when he’s mentioned or do something else that expresses your dislike for him.”

“He’s boring. You can do so much better. Anyway, are the two of you dating?”

“No,” Yongsun immediately answered.

“Are you thinking of dating him?” Moonbyul hated this. She had no idea why Yongsun was wasting her time with that wet towel.

“I . . . am,” she responded cautiously.

“Go on,” Moonbyul encouraged her.

“Go on?”

“Tell me about him. As I said, he seems boring as hell, but you obviously like him, so,” she gestured with her hands and raised her eyebrows as if telling Yongsun to hurry up before she changed her mind.

“Really?” The amount of excitement in her voice was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, a happy Yongsun was always a highlight of Moonbyul’s day. On the other, if she got this excited to talk about Jinyoung, it meant she really liked the guy. That rubbed Moonbyul the wrong way.

Nonetheless, Yongsun crawled closer until she was snuggled close enough to lay her head on the athlete’s chest.

“So . . .” Yongsun started.

“So . . .” Moonbyul mimicked.

“He and I hung out earlier this week and I was nervous going into it, but then it got much more comfortable as it went on . . .”

She told Moonbyul everything she had wished she could tell her before. The younger women held her close while resting a head on the back of the couch.

They stayed in that position for a good amount of time, catching up on everything they missed in each other’s lives. For Moonbyul, things felt right again, back to normal.

*

**To: Yongdunnie**

Good morning! I hope that you slept well. Please make sure to eat all of your meals. Text me when you wake up 😊 _8:55 am_

With her and Yongsun’s argument a thing of the past now, Moonbyul began her day as she used to—with a text message to Yongsun. They had discussed the day before that Yongsun would be incredibly busy, so despite Moonbyul’s whining and attempts to change the older woman’s mind, the two wouldn’t be able to see each other at all today. Much to Byulyi’s dismay, their conversations would be limited to text messages.

As it stood, her Saturday would be uneventful, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The basketball star had a good workout in the weight room then got some shots up at the practice facility. Upon leaving the shower room, she took her time getting dressed. No one else was around.

Her eyes were suddenly drawn to her locker, though, as the vibrations of her cell phone buzzed against the wooden surface. She adjusted her towel and headed over to see who was contacting her.

**From: Yongdunnie**

When you wake up 😊 _12:15 pm_

You told me “Text me ‘when you wake up 😊’” so I did. _12:16 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

You know you’re not funny, right?

Like, at all. _12:16 pm_

**From: Yongdunnie**

I thought it was funny :( Did you really not find it funny?

You don’t think it was witty? _12:17 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

You’re cute. _12:18 pm_

**From: Yongdunnie**

That’s a no then 😔 _12:19 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

It was funny, I was just messing with you.

Did you only now wake up? _12:20 pm_

**From: Yongdunnie**

No, I woke up earlier, but have been running errands since. _12:21 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

So you completely ignored my message until now. Got it. _12:21 pm_

**From: Yongdunnie**

You know it’s not like that 🙄 _12:24 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

Leaving the gym for UV soon.

Need me to pick up anything for you? _12:25 pm_

**From: Yongdunnie**

It’s okay. I’m not home, but thanks for asking. _12:26 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

Okay :( _12:26 pm_

**From: Yongdunnie**

Stop. I know you have a pouty face on right now. _12:27 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

I do. Can we hang out tomorrow? Pretty please? _12:27 pm_

**From Yongdunnie**

Obviously. Tomorrow’s your birthday.

You get whatever you want. _12:28 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

😏 😈_12:28 pm_

**From: Yongdunnie**

Sorry, you sent that to the wrong person.

This is Yongsun, not Sunmi 😊_12:30 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

WOW! We’re joking about that now, huh? Good one.

Can I finally get my movie marathon, please? Long overdue. _12:31 pm_

**From: Yongdunnie**

Your wish is my command. Movie marathon it is.

Have to go now, but I’ll message you a little later, okay? _12:33 pm_

**To: Yongdunnie**

Okay :(

Be safe. Ttyl 😎 _12:34 pm_

Nineteen minutes. She’d been standing in front of her locker still wrapped in her towel texting back and forth with Yongsun for nineteen minutes. As the conversation was over for now, she quickly changed into her casual clothes and headed home.

The rest of the day was calm. She and Heeyeon revisited the Phoenix vs. Seattle WNBA series Moonbyul had made the senior promise to not watch without her. Once they completed that, they switched over to a k-drama they both needed to catch up on.

At around 10:00 pm, Heeyeon went to bed, claiming that she was exhausted. Moonbyul followed suit and fell asleep almost immediately.

*

Moonbyul wasn’t a light sleeper, but she wasn’t a heavy sleeper either. She could tolerate reasonable levels of light or noise—years of travel for sports had conditioned her to adapt to less than ideal sleeping situations. However, should her surroundings have excessive levels of sensory stimulation, she’d be affected. This was the case when she suddenly felt something tickling her nose. She had no idea how long it’d been going on for, but clearly long enough that it was now bothering her.

Swiping at her nose provided only a momentary reprieve before the sensation would resume. Despite her growing frustrations, though, Moonbyul was determined to not open her eyes. Whatever the source of the problem was would eventually resolve itself, she thought. Until she felt extra weight on top of her.

“What the fuck!” She thrashed around, opening her eyes to find three figures outlined in front of her and something or someone still on top of her. Never in her life had fear consumed her so completely.

The lights to her room were suddenly turned on. She was in the midst of her eyes readjusting when the song started.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Byulyiiiiiiii! Happy birthday to you!”

Cheers from Heeyeon, Wheein, and Yongsun broke out as she felt a kiss being placed on her cheek. It was Hyejin, who was still on top of her.

“You all are unbelievable! Why would you break into my room and scare the shit out of me? Hyejin, I was so close to hitting you.”

“Wow,” Heeyeon began, “that’s an odd way of saying ‘Thank you all so much for preparing this surprise so that you could celebrate my birthday exactly at midnight!’”

“Thank you all so much for preparing this surprise so that you could celebrate my birthday exactly at midnight,” she deadpanned.

“Ungrateful. Yongsun-unnie, you shouldn’t have planned this for her. She doesn’t deserve it,” Heeyeon said before turning to leave the room.

Byulyi didn’t even have time to respond to Heeyeon’s remark because she had to stop Hyejin from pulling her comforter off of her.

“She doesn’t have a shirt on! Only a sports bra! Wheein, come help me pull the covers off of her.” Wheein actually made a move to help before the birthday girl snapped at her.

“Wheein, if you help her, I swear!”

“Why is she acting like this, Hyejin? Unnie, we’ve seen you without your shirt before. What’s wrong with you?”

Moonbyul said nothing.

“Ohhhh, it’s because of Yongsun-unnie, right? You don’t want her to see you? Why not? You have a good body, unnie. Show it off.” The youngest smiled mischievously as she mounted the blonde like a koala.

“Hyejin, stop,” she whispered. “Seriously.”

“Unnie, your face is turning pink! You’re so cute.”

“Okay, okay, leave her alone, Hyejin. You and Wheein go help Heeyeon finish setting everything up.”

The two listened obediently and headed to the living room, Moonbyul assumed.

“Happy birthday, Byul-ah,” Yongsun smiled softly.

“You planned all of this?” The athlete asked in disbelief.

“All of us helped plan it.”

It took a minute before a thought hit her. “Wait, why are Hyejin and Wheein here? I thought they left for Jeonju on Friday? Hyejin said her dad was coming to pick them up.”

“He came to pick up their stuff. They’re taking the train home tomorrow.”

“So where are they staying? The school dorms closed on Friday night.”

“With me,” Yongsun laughed. “That’s why I avoided you yesterday. If you came over, it would’ve ruined the surprise. The three of us were going all around making sure we had everything ready.”

“I can’t believe you,” Moonbyul said in awe. Yongsun simply closed her eyes and smiled cutely in response.

“Can you two hurry up already?” Heeyeon yelled from down the hall.

“I’ll let you put some clothes on. Going to join them.”

The blonde quickly threw on a hoodie and sweatpants before jogging to the living room. There was chicken, pizza, a cake. She also noticed the bowl of seaweed soup sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Seaweed soup?!”

“Yeah, Yongsun-unnie made it,” Wheein explained. Moonbyul turned to look surprisingly at the eldest in the room, who was now sitting on the couch.

“You made it?”

“Yeah,” she bashfully responded. “My mom gave me instructions over the phone.” Seaweed soup on one’s birthday was a Korean tradition. Moonbyul’s mom had made it for her every year up until the previous one—the athlete was still on campus for her birthday last year. It was something small, but it touched her how thoughtful this gesture of Yongsun’s was. She immediately walked to the couch to pull the brunette into a tight hug.

“Umm, what about us?” Heeyeon asked. “All the rest of us have gotten so far is your attitude.”

“Let’s jump them,” Hyejin stated resolutely. And that’s exactly what they did. Wheein, Hyejin, and Heeyeon rushed to jump on top the other two for one big group hug.

“Okay, okay, you all are crushing her,” Moonbyul cautioned. Truthfully, she was taking most of the weight as best she could as she shielded Yongsun who was beneath her.

“Let’s get the presents from Heeyeon-unnie’s room then we can cut the cake,” Wheein exclaimed. The other three walked off but returned quickly.

“Open mine first!”

“The fact that you’re this excited, Heeyeon, makes me nervous.”

“I just want to get it over with,” she said handing over an envelope.

“Are you serious!” Moonbyul exclaimed after retrieving the card’s contents.

“What is it?” Wheein wanted to know.

“NBA League Pass. You seriously did that?!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Heeyeon waved her off. “It benefits me, too, so don’t get too excited.”

“Wow, you’re incapable of expressing positive emotions.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“That’s exactly why we’re best friends. Love you, ugly.”

“Love you, too, ugliest.”

“Sorry to interrupt the love fest,” Hyejin cut in, “What the hell is an NBA League Pass?”

“It’s like, a streaming service for all NBA games,” Moonbyul explained. “If you have it, you can watch any game that’s on, but they also all get archived, so you can go back to any game you want and you can even watch classic games from years ago.”

“So we don’t have to illegally stream NBA games anymore. We’re not going to go to jail!” Heeyeon happily screamed.

“Yayyy!” She and Moonbyul celebrated.

“Okay, weirdos. Open the gift from me and Wheein next.”

“Since you’re into photography now and you’re kind of serious about it, we got you this camera. It’s not fancy like the other one you got,” at that, both Wheein and Hyejin rolled their eyes, “but we still thought you’d like it.”

Peeking into the bag they handed her, Moonbyul chuckled. She walked up to both of them and planted a firm kiss on each of their cheeks. “You two are the best.” They bought her a digital polaroid camera—the Fujifilm SQ20 Instax Instant Camera.

“**Now** we’re the best, Wheein,” Hyejin spoke sarcastically.

“You’re **always** the best,” the athlete sweetly addressed the youngest of the group, pulling her into a hug and kissing her in the forehead.

“What about me?” Wheein pouted.

“Of course you get some, too.” The second youngest was usually scolding Moonbyul for her flirtatious ways, so it was a gift in itself that Wheein was so naturally receiving her affection today.

“Yongsun-unnie! Your turn,” Hyejin commanded.

“My gifts are kind of boring compared to everyone else’s,” she timidly shared. Lifting herself from the couch, she walked over to hand Moonbyul the gift bag.

“Ohhhh,” Wheein was excited at all the bag’s contents. “Hurry up, unnie, take it all out.”

As Moonbyul pulled each item out, Yongsun narrated. The junior first pulled out a rich brown leather laptop case. Her full name was engraved in beige. “Ah, that’s a laptop sleeve because I remember you lost yours a while ago and you’d been carrying your computer around unprotected and that’s not good for it, so . . . yeah. That’s why I got it.”

“And a . . . oh! Voucher for a massage?!” This one intrigued Moonbyul.

“You’re always sore because of all the training you do, but can never get a proper rest, so I figured a massage at a spa would do you well,” she shrugged.

“The rest of the bag is full of snacks.” Her favorite snacks, to be precise.

“Because you’re **always** hungry, so this way you can pack them in your bags and have something to snack on during classes and breaks.”

Moonbyul just stood there staring at Yongsun, who stared back, shy smiles adorning both of their faces. It was only seconds, but felt like minutes before Hyejin clapped her hands.

“Okay, you two are being awkward. Let’s cut the cake!”

Before Yongsun could walk off, Moonbyul grabbed her attention.

“You obviously didn’t buy these gifts last second. What were you gonna do with them if we still weren’t talking by today?”

The graduate student shrugged. “I probably would’ve given them to Wheein and Hyejin and told them to take the credit.”

“Hope you know I’m working overtime trying to figure out how to make this up to you.”

“Stop,” Yongsun delicately grabbed Byulyi’s forearm. “You don’t have to make anything up to me. We’re friends. I got you those gifts because you deserve them and that’s what friends do.”

“Okay,” the athlete softly tapped the brunette’s chin.

“Can the two of you **please** stop and come cut this cake.” Hyejin’s patience seemed to be running out.

*

The surprise celebration ended after three in the morning. Moonbyul wanted very badly to ask Yongsun to stay, but seeing as Wheein and Hyejin were staying with the eldest, she decided against it. All five had agreed to get some rest and meet later at Yongsun’s apartment for an all-day movie marathon.

The door to their apartment hadn’t been closed for even a moment when Heeyeon started with her nonsense.

“Byul. Look, I used to joke about it,” Moonbyul interrupted her with a tired sigh. “Just listen. The two of you are **really** cute.”

“I liked it better when we used to talk about things other than my love life.”

“You keep acting like you only care about her as a friend, but you didn’t see yourself sending heart eyes after she explained the gifts she got you. It was . . . **intense**.”

“I was grateful.”

“I’m sure you were,” she dryly responded. “If you were really only friends with her, you wouldn’t have lied to her about Sunmi.” The smug smirk on Heeyeon’s face irked her to no end.

“There was no point in getting into all of that. The Sunmi situation was over by then. If I told her everything, she’d think there was more going on with Sunmi than there ever was.”

“Maybe she would have been correct in assuming that.”

“No. She would have been wrong. The Sunmi thing is officially over.”

“Is it though?” At that, Heeyeon placed her phone in her roommate’s face. On the screen was the picture Moonbyul had posted an hour ago.

She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t expected it, but after cutting the cake, her friends smushed a huge piece into her face. It was undoubtedly planned, because Wheein appeared with the camera they had gifted Moonbyul and snapped a few photos. The entire thing was hilarious, and the polaroids came out well. The picture she ultimately decided to post, though, was one where she posed with the cake smeared on her face and the drawstrings of her hoodie drawn tightly. Eyes closed and lips puckered, everything about the picture was cute. The caption read:

**byulyi **Hoping all of ✌️✌️ is as perfect as it started.

View all 113 comments

**kisum **The best you’ve ever looked. Check your messages!

**hyunjae** Happy birthday, unnie! Be safe and have fun. See you at practice!

**odj503** Why are you so handsome?!

1 hour ago

Some of the comments were from people she knew. Most were from people she didn’t. The one she knew Heeyeon was focusing on was the one from Sunmi:

**miyayeah** Happy birthday, Byulyi. Hope your birthday is as beautiful as you are 😔❤️

“Are you going to respond?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’d be rude not to. Later, though. I’m not dealing with that right now.”

It appeared that the Sunmi situation might **not** actually be over.

*

She, Heeyeon, Wheein, Hyejin, and Yongsun were camped out in the latter’s living room, watching movies on Misuk’s huge flat screen television. They’d moved the living room table to the one of the hallways, and laid out comforters, blankets, and pillows on top of a huge air mattress for Wheein and Hyejin to relax on, while Heeyeon opted for the armchair. Moonbyul completely ignored her roommate’s stares as she and Yongsun cuddled on the couch. The first movie they watched was _Bridesmaids_.

One of the first things she remembered upon waking up was the comment Kisum had left under her Instagram post. As instructed by the second-year, she sifted through her messages and found the birthday text message the younger girl sent; it was quite sweet. Moonbyul thanked her, and they’d been exchanging messages all morning since. The conversation consisted mainly of them checking in on how the other had been since they’d last seen each other in November at the Olympics Pre-Qualifying Tournament. It eventually to shifted to Kisum inquiring about what Moonbyul would be doing after the first of January. She and a group of her Korea University (KU) friends would be venturing to SNU’s part of town.

**To: Kisum**

Ew, why are you coming here?

KU kids aren’t allowed. No, thank you. _12:02 pm_

**From: Kisum**

SNU should be grateful that we’re stepping foot on that

stinky campus 🤢 _12:03 pm_

**To: Kisum**

Stinky?

Your height always makes me forget that you’re a toddler. _12:03 pm_

**From: Kisum**

Lmaoo. Anyway, I have a friend that goes to your school.

You should come hang out with us and get to know her. _12:05 pm_

With Yongsun laying on her, it would be easy for the graduate student to read the entire text exchange if she wanted to. Up until that moment, it wasn’t an issue for Moonbyul. At the mention of Kisum’s friend, though, Byulyi began using only her right hand to text, angling the phone away from Yongsun’s view. She had no idea where this conversation was going, and the last thing she needed was for Yongsun to start assuming things. Once she was sure that the older girl’s attention was on the movie only, she responded.

**To: Kisum**

Get to know her? _12:12 pm_

**From: Kisum**

Yeah. Thought it’d be cool for all of us to hang since

I know you, and you go to SNU, and I know her, and she

also goes to SNU. So, now you both can know each other.

It’s like that math rule or whatever. _12:14 pm_

She was a Media and Communication major for a reason. Once more, Moonbyul checked to make sure Yongsun wasn’t reading her messages.

**To: Kisum**

You sure I don’t already know her? _12:20 pm_

**From: Kisum**

You don’t know her. Showed her your picture.

She said she’d never seen you before lmao!

Aren’t you supposed to be well-known? The basketball

savior 🤣 _12:25 pm_

**To: Kisum**

Anyway! What’s her name? _12:28 pm_

“Are you even watching the movie? You’ve been on your phone forever,” Yongsun suddenly whisper-whined. “If you don’t like this movie, we could’ve watched something else.”

“I **am** watching it. They gave out puppies at the bridal shower,” she smugly responded. Yongsun huffed in annoyance, causing Moonbyul to hug her closer. “Be happy, please. I’m happy and I’m having a lot of fun, I just need to respond to Kisum. She wished me a happy birthday and wanted to know if we could hang out.”

“Whatever.”

Once they were settled, she checked her phone for Kisum’s response. Byulyi was oddly intrigued by the idea of this SNU student that didn’t know who she was.

**From: Kisum**

Lee Haena. Vocal Music major. _12:29 pm_

**To: Kisum**

Yeah, don’t know her, but now I need to.

Slightly offended she doesn’t know me. _12:45 pm_

**From: Kisum**

Thought you were humble and didn’t care about the status

of being a star athlete? 🤡 _12:46 pm_

**To: Kisum**

Lmaoooo. No need to come for my whole life like this.

Was just surprised. Lee Haena is already like a

breath of fresh air. _12:47 pm_

**From: Kisum**

Gross. And it’s Lee Haena-unnie.

She’s older than you. _12:48 pm_

**To: Kisum**

LOVE older women 😍 _12:50 pm_

**From: Kisum**

Nvm. Stay away from her. Get a job. _12:51 pm_

**To: Kisum**

It was a joke. Unless? . . . Joking!

Yong’s gonna choke me if I don’t get off my phone. _12:51 pm_

**From: Kisum**

Kinky _12:51 pm_

**To: Kisum**

Lol, stop. Definitely want to meet Haena-unnie.

Keep me updated. Tell Heeyeon, too (you probably already did).

Gotta go! _12:54 pm_

Before she put her phone away for good, Moonbyul made sure to respond to Sunmi’s comment. In her mind, it was her having manners. Despite everything that transpired, the model took the time to send her well wishes. There was no reason to ignore her:

**miyayeah** Happy birthday, Byulyi. Hope your birthday is as beautiful as you are 😔❤️

13 hours ago 59 likes Reply

|**Byulyi** @miyayeah Thank you, Sunmi! 🙈 🤗

As soon as she hit ‘reply,’ Moonbyul placed her phone down, giving the movie and Yongsun her undivided attention.


	17. Got Her Groove Back

The week and a half at home was healing. Exactly what Moonbyul needed.

It had been far too long since she had last seen her younger sisters—their schooling and extracurricular activities prevented them from accompanying their parents to her basketball games, and her hectic schedule made it impossible for her to visit home. The eldest of three took her role in the family seriously, though, and was intentional over her break about creating space and time to bond with her siblings, both of whom she learned a lot from and cared deeply for. Seulgi, the middle child, was off to college soon, so their conversations were drastically different from those that Moonbyul had with their baby sister Yesol, with whom the athlete had a ten-year age difference. Still, she managed, finding commonalities with both.

Her parents pampered her, as expected, especially her mother, who fussed over Moonbyul’s every action. “_Don’t burden yourself too much,”_ she’d say, _“worry only about eating and sleeping. You need a proper rest after working so hard all the time.”_ She absolutely did not need to be told twice.

Also expected, her mother asked for an update on her friends. Wheein and Hyejin seemed to have burrowed their way into the woman’s heart, and Moonbyul loved that. The younger girls felt like sisters to her; she was glad her family regarded them similarly. Her question about Yongsun, though, was downright hilarious.

_“Is Yongsun doing well?”_

_“She is, yes. She’s with her family in Seoul.”_

_“Are you going to Seoul for the 1st of January then?”_

_“Uh . . . no. I go back on the 2nd. Why would I leave on the start of the year? We’re supposed to bring it in as a family,” the confusion she held was clear in her voice._

_“Oh,” her mom responded, similarly confused. “Well, couples usually bring the year in together, don’t they?”_

_“Excuse me,” she guffawed. Moonbyul couldn’t wait to tell Wheein, Hyejin, and Heeyeon about this. There was no way she’d tell Yongsun, she’d get weird about it._

_“You’re not dating her? I thought she was another Goeun.”_

_Byulyi’s family knew that she was a lesbian ever since her relationship with Goeun, her ex, had been found out. The two went to high school together and grew close. Their relationship was, for the most part, drama-free. Their first go lasted for 1.5 years—the second half of their third year in high school and all of their fourth year. The entire first year of them being together, Moonbyul introduced Goeun to her family as simply a friend. They both agreed it would be for the best. That farce ended, though, when her mother found the high-schoolers in the middle of actions uncharacteristic of simple friends. They had been in Moonbyul’s bedroom, the door unlocked—a rookie move. Things with her family after that weren’t turbulent, but more so awkward. Her mother had caught her in the middle of having sex with someone. That would have been uncomfortable no matter who she had been with. Her sexuality did not become a source of contention, to her relief. The entire family was accepting and supportive._

_Things with Goeun, on the other hand, grew less harmonious. Their relationship became strained once university decisions came around. The possibility of Moonbyul going abroad for her studies had been briefly discussed, but they tabled it for “later,” which ended up being after Moonbyul had already made her decision: Stanford University in the U.S. To her credit, the athlete advocated for them staying together, but Goeun put an end to everything. She didn’t want a long-distance relationship with a highly sought after athlete._

_Of course, plans to go abroad fell through at the last minute and Moonbyul stayed in Korea. Her and Goeun reconnected and gave their relationship another try. They made it through three-fourths of their first year in college before things, once again, unraveled. The toll of Moonbyul’s commitments as an athlete weighing heavy on them both, the decision to break up was mutual._

_All of that aside, it seemed her mother now believed the words “friend” or “best friend” were always code for “girlfriend”._

_“We’re not together,” she said while chuckling lightly. “We’re literally only friends. Nothing more.”_

_“Your father told me you came to him asking for advice on how to fix things with her because the two of you were fighting, so I assumed . . .”_

_“It was a friend fight. We fixed it. I’m gonna tell her you thought we were dating.”_

_“No! No, no. Don’t do that. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable or awkward around me.”_

_“I’m gonna tell her,” she gave her mom a cheeky grin._

_“Byul-ah, don’t.”_

_“I’ll think about it.”_

_“I’ll make your favorite dessert for you to take back with you,” her mom bribed._

_“Finished thinking about it. Not going to tell her.”_

*

The campus over break felt empty. Well, it **was** empty; most students were still enjoying their time off. The bulk of other people on campus were members of the Track & Field and Men’s Basketball teams. With Yongsun, Hyejin, and Wheein still at their parents’ homes, Moonbyul clung mostly to her teammates and Kisum to pass the time and fend off her loneliness and boredom.

The KU basketball star had kept her word and reached back out to Moonbyul and Heeyeon to confirm a hangout with her friends. KU had their winter break at the same time as SNU, so outside of training and a few basketball games, she, too, had a lot of time to kill. As she’d told Moonbyul, a few of her closest non-basketball friends were SNU students, so she’d ventured over to rival territory a few times to spend time with them.

Byulyi thought at first that it would be awkward meeting Kisum’s friends, but to her pleasant surprise, one meetup with them turned into two, and two turned into three. The next thing she knew, she and Heeyeon were at Kisum’s birthday celebration, well on their way to becoming fixed members of that social circle.

“Look who finally showed up,” an intoxicated Kisum bellowed.

This restaurant was normally busy on Saturdays, but as this weekend capped off the first full week since classes had resumed, it was more hectic than usual, full of rowdy university students looking to blow off some steam after being thrown headfirst back into their studies. Kisum’s booming, slightly slurred voice was one of many other booming voices, all varying levels of slurred.

“You missed us?” Byulyi cockily asked while making her way around the table to greet the sea of familiar faces.

“Not you, only Heeyeon. You could’ve stayed on the other side of Seoul.”

“Ungrateful.” They cut the banter for a moment of sincerity as both Heeyeon and Byulyi converged on their National Team maknae to drown her in hugs. “Happy birthday to our baby!”

“I love you two,” the second-year mumbled.

Once all three were settled in their seats, they continued their conversation as the SNU stars ordered a bunch of drinks, looking to catch up to everyone else.

“I thought you were going to get a ride here with Dahye-unnie, Haena-unnie, and Kasper-unnie.”

“I had to take care of something, so we couldn’t. Already asked Haena-unnie,” Moonbyul said before taking a sip of her drink, “she said we could go back with them.” She let everyone around her fall into conversation as she took out her phone.

**To: Haena-unnie**

Why are you all the way at the other end of the table? _9:30 pm_

**From: Haena-unnie**

Because my friends are here. _9:31 pm_

I’m not your friend? _9:31 pm_

Idk. Are you? 🤔 _9:32 pm_

A light snort escaped her. Looking at the other end of the table, Byulyi sent an amused, questioning eyebrow the way of brown eyes that were already waiting for her reaction. Haena shrugged innocently before joining in whatever those around her were discussing. There was no way Moonbyul was going to allow herself to be dismissed that easily.

**To: Haena-unnie**

Come here.

Please 🥺 _9:35 pm_

Her eyes were trained intently on the older woman’s movements. No response via text came, but the blonde grinned triumphantly when she saw the dark brown-haired woman stand up and trudge over, dramatically rolling her eyes as she grew nearer.

Moonbyul wasn’t sure, but she figured everyone at their table knew that she and Haena hung out from time to time outside of whatever group outings took place. The first time she and Heeyeon hung out with Kisum’s friend group, she was nervous. Heeyeon’s a people person, she could handle any social situation and win anyone over. Moonbyul wasn’t necessarily the complete opposite, but her handle on things wasn’t always as guaranteed as Heeyeon’s—she was more prone than her roommate to moments of shyness and social awkwardness. It was a pleasant surprise, then, when she was immediately welcomed by Kisum’s friends. The surprise was even more pleasant when she found a kindred spirit in Lee Haena.

Lee Haena was a 23-year-old Vocal Music major in her last year at SNU, and Moonbyul thought she was wonderful! They had similar senses of humor and got along well. So, yeah, they exchanged numbers and met up every now and then. It was usually nothing too wild, some coffee here, desserts there. Sometimes they’d grab a quick to-go meal from a food cart or truck between classes. Their get-togethers were usually spur-of-the-moment, but they had built a good rapport and enjoyed each other’s company. Moonbyul hoped they would continue to get to know each other better.

Once Haena took a seat next to her, Byulyi gave her her full attention.

“You were going to ignore me?” She asked with a playful pout.

“I didn’t ignore you. I gave you a hug when you went around greeting everyone,” the fourth year said, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“You know what I mean. You were texting me the entire time I wasn’t here. ‘Are you still coming? Where are you?’,” she mimicked Haena in a comedically high-pitched voice. “For all that, the least I expected was you sitting next to me.”

“You have Heeyeon.”

“Mm mm,” the junior shook her head, “she’s a social butterfly. I’m shy.” The brown-haired woman let out a reluctant laugh. “Finally! A laugh. A smile. Something! You were killing me.” She eyed Haena’s empty cup. “Where are my manners? What do you want to drink? It’s on me.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m trying to get you to loosen up.”

“I’m plenty loose,” Haena smirked. They did this sometimes, the flirting thing. It was fun. Moonbyul enjoyed it. This time, though, she was rendered speechless. All she could do was smile.

“You win,” she said as she put her hands up in surrender. It was one of Haena’s hands, though, that captured her attention. It made its way to one of Byulyi’s denim-clad knees.

“It’s no fun if you give up that easily,” the senior said, giving a soft squeeze.

She wasn’t sure how most of the night progressed for everyone else, but for her and Haena, it continued as a battle for verbal dominance, before giving way to subtle touches that turned into not-so-subtle touches. As they drank more, they cared less. Moonbyul cared less. She was feeling bold.

“What are you doing after this?” She asked, pulling Haena’s chair closer.

“Going home,” the Vocal Music major cheekily responded.

“With me?”

“Flirting is one thing, but I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate that,” she broke eye contact with Moonbyul.

“I don’t have one of those.”

“That’s not what Kisum told me.”

“You asked?” She was confident now and threw a cocky grin Haena’s way. All she got was an eye roll in return. “Kisum! Why’d you tell unnie that I have a girlfriend?”

The birthday girl happened to be passing by when she’d been scolded by the blonde. “Because you have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh,” she shrugged. Switching her gaze to Haena, she disinterestedly said, “She doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“See? Told you.”

“Why would she say you had one in the first place if you didn’t?” Moonbyul gestured for her to direct that question to Kisum.

“Because she’s always talking about some girl. Look, I don’t know and I don’t care. Where’s Heeyeon-unnie? She promised me a drink if I made it to midnight without vomiting.” With that, she had forgotten about Moonbyul and Haena and was off in search of settling more important matters.

“So, who’s the girl you’re always talking about?”

“I have no idea,” the blonde laughed.

“That doesn’t help your case any.”

“No! That came out wrong. I’m single. I promise,” Moonbyul said, grabbing Haena’s right hand with both of hers.

“You promise? You’re drunk. Drunk promises mean nothing.”

“I’m drunk and you’re pretty,” she smugly smiled.

“Is that how you get out of every hole you dig for yourself?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Not tonight.” At that, Haena stood up and made her way to the restroom. An eager Moonbyul stood to follow until an arm jerked her back and forced her to sit back down.

“No.” It was Heeyeon.

“What?” The junior played dumb.

“No. You look thirsty as hell. Relax.”

“I am thirsty as hell,” she tried to force her way out of the chair, but Heeyeon was much stronger than she’d remembered. “Plus, you’re the one that told me to live a little every now and then, right? That’s what I’m doing.”

“You’re being sloppy.”

Heeyeon was right. By no means was she a celebrity, not even close, but there were always eyes on her and she did have a responsibility to conduct herself properly in public. Not only was she one of the faces of SNU Athletics—some would argue she was **the** face—she was also recently officially named to the Korean Women’s National Basketball Team fighting for a spot in the Olympics. She had to be smarter with how she went about things.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, be smarter.” Heeyeon left no room for negotiation. Moonbyul nodded.

“You don’t seem drunk.”

“Because I’m not. We couldn’t both be drunk at the same time. Once I saw you knocking them back, I slowed down. Get it together, Byulyi.”

Heeyeon left to chat it up with someone else, but her words left an impact. Moonbyul took a break from being messy to check her phone—it had been abandoned almost all night. She caught up on some messages sent in the group chat that she, Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin had with each other. Yongsun had also sent her a separate message about a pair of sneakers Moonbyul had been mentioning all week.

**From: Yong**

Saw about five ppl with the sneakers

you said you wanted. Wow! _10:40 pm_

**To: Yong**

Tgey wish they could b like me.

U look beautful btw. _12:11 am_

Before the message about the sneakers, Yongsun had sent a picture of her outfit for the night: a cute black midi sweater dress with black sock boots. She went on a date with Jinyoung that night and while Byulyi didn’t like it, there was nothing she could do about it. Things seemed to be picking up between those two. She wouldn’t be surprised if any day now, an announcement came about them being in an official relationship.

**From: Yong**

Omg, are you drunk? _12:12 am_

**To: Yong**

Very _12:12 am_

You deserve it!

Have your fun, I’m going to bed._ _12:13 am__

Ok :( Slep well <

*<3 _12:14 am_

A few moments later, Haena reclaimed the chair she had vacated earlier.

“I thought you were going to follow me,” she said while gently knocking one of the blonde’s knees with her leg.

“How was I supposed to know you wanted me to? I can’t read minds,” the athlete whispered into her ear.

“That’s disappointing,” Haena pouted.

The two sat there for a few seconds staring and smiling dumbly at each other, oblivious to the commotion around them.

“Group picture! Everyone get close,” Kasper yelled to their table. There was no hesitation, Moonbyul pulled Haena onto her lap and Haena allowed herself to be pulled. They **were** told to get close Byulyi reasoned with herself as she snaked her right hand around the older woman’s waist. Haena copied the action, placing her left arm around the younger girl’s neck. They both made silly faces for the camera before everyone dispersed for the night.

Heeyeon, Dahye, and Kasper wrangled Moonbyul and Haena into the backseat of Dahye’s car. The two wasted no time doing what they’d been waiting all night to do. The senior straddled Moonbyul, wrapping both arms around her neck. The athlete sat back in her seat while gently cupping Haena’s smooth cheeks before sensually tracing her lips with her right thumb. Seconds later, she pulled Haena’s face closer to hers, capturing the brunette’s plump lips between her own. She’d wanted to be bolder, and Haena’s breathy moans were encouraging, but even in her intoxicated state, Moonbyul didn’t want to disrespect the other woman or force her into anything.

Haena, on the other hand, had no intentions of playing coy that night. Byulyi quickly learned this when the older woman’s tongue determinedly slunk its way into her mouth, the taste of apple soju overcoming her. More. She wanted more. Sitting up in her seat, the athlete eagerly chased more, craning her neck in search of firmer contact with Haena’s mouth, but was roughly pushed back by Haena, whose wild eyes and swollen lips sent waves of lust crashing over the athlete.

“Come,” Byulyi gruffly commanded. Haena wasn’t looking to play coy, but she **loved** to play. Instead of complying and giving more open-mouthed kisses on the blonde’s lips, she attacked Moonbyul’s long neck, specifically the prominent vein that ran from under her left ear to the base of her throat. The athlete’s strong hands firmly gripped Haena’s ass, drawing a surprised shriek from the older woman, before they resumed their sloppy, alcohol-induced actions.

“Are they seriously doing this right now?” Heeyeon asked. The senior had the misfortune of sitting next to them as they filled the car with their obscene noises.

“We’re sorry about Haena,” Dahye apologized from the driver’s seat.

“She’s not usually like this,” Kasper also came to defend her friend’s character.

“Neither is Byulyi. I don’t really care that it’s happening, I care that it’s happening right next to me. Do you have music you could play or something to drown out the noises they’re making?”

Thankfully, Dahye satisfied her request and blared the first playlist she could find on her phone. None of the three cared what music emanated from the speakers, as long as it drowned out the sounds of moaning and lips smacking.

*

A dumbass. That’s what Moonbyul felt like the following morning. The dull throbbing in her head was exacerbated every time she attempted to open her eyes. Nausea sloshed through her, her body threatening to expel its stomach’s contents at a moment’s notice. She was miserable . . . and still in her clothes from last night.

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake. Here’s some breakfast. Eat it and then drink this Pedialyte.”

“You couldn’t at least take my clothes off?”

“I had to endure you tonguing Haena down right next to me, then I had to carry you up to your bed. I even made you breakfast, and you’re saying that I should have also changed your clothes? Just trying to clarify,” Heeyeon’s voice gave away that she was annoyed.

“Thank you for the breakfast and for everything else. It looks lovely.”

“That’s what I thought. Here,” she placed the plate of food on the night table beside Byul’s bed before laughing, the memories of the previous night coming back to her. “You were so sloppy last night. We were laughing at the two of you the whole time, except for when you started making out in the car right next to me.”

“I’m sorry. I should text Haena and apologize.”

“She seemed super into it, but you can message her if you want. It’ll come across as endearing. I bet she’d love that.”

“You’re the worst,” Moonbyul whined.

“Possibly. Anyway, eat your food and try to take a shower. Yongsun-unnie already texted me a bunch of times asking if you were okay, so she’ll probably come check on you a bit later.”

Left alone, the athlete reflected on her actions, face turning red with embarrassment. Haena was attractive. Byulyi was attracted to her, and it seemed the senior felt the same way in return, but Moonbyul still felt she should have gone about things differently. Opening one eye, her hands explored the night table until it met her cell. It took twice as long due to her state, but she managed to punch out a coherent text message.

**To: Haena-unnie**

Good morning! I hope you rested well.

I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night.

The alcohol isn’t an excuse. I should have been better than that.

I’m really sorry 😞 That’s not usually how I act. _11:16 am_

She threw the phone down, pulling a pillow over her face, but was stunned when her phone buzzed almost immediately. Checking the screen, she saw it was a response from Haena.

**From: Haena-unnie**

Good morning, Byulyi! It’s sweet of you to check on me.

Thank you for the apology, but there’s no need. I’m not usually like that either, but it felt right with you. You always make me feel comfortable. Thank you for that. We should do it again . . . with much less alcohol lol. _11:18 am_

**To: Haena-unnie**

I’d love that! It’s always a good time with you 😊

Please take care of yourself today and be sure to

drink lots of water. _11:20 am_

I will. When can I see you again? _11:21 am_

I’ll call you later and we can talk about it? _11:22 am_

Okay. Ttyl, Byulyi 😘 _11:23 am_

😍 _11:23 am_

Relieved was an understatement. Things turned out much better than she could have imagined. Haena didn’t hate her **and** they’d most likely start spending more time together. Moonbyul couldn’t complain. It was a win-win.

Sitting up to eat the breakfast Heeyeon left on her night table, the athlete recalled how resolute she had been during the summer when she promised Wheein and Hyejin that she was giving up girls this year. Basketball and her studies only, she’d said. She chuckled thinking about how that lasted only one semester. Maybe it was okay that she was relaxing her stance a bit, though. The junior originally thought that women would serve only as distractions, but so far, that didn’t seem to be the case. First off, none of the women that she surrounded herself with or found herself attracted to would allow **her** to be a distraction for **them**, let alone them being distractions for her. Everyone around her was about their business and serious about achieving their goals. More importantly, though, it was time that she gave herself some credit. Her time management skills so far were impeccable. She attended every class of hers, completed every assignment, received high marks, gave her all at trainings and in games, and maintained solid relationships with her friends. In this moment, at her physical worst, Moon Byulyi was able to acknowledge that she was doing her best.

She’d earned the right to, without any guilt, pursue the people she was attracted to.

“Byul-ah!”

A groan left her lips and filled the room. It wasn’t due to who was entering her room, but the volume at which they were speaking.

“Yong. Please. You’re too loud,” Moonbyul murmured. Hoping it would grant a brief reprieve from the ringing in her ears and the thumping in her head, the blonde tightly scrunched her eyes shut and rubbed her temples.

“Huh! What did you say?” Yongsun purposely yelled as she walked closer to her friend. “I didn’t hear you!”

“Yong, stop.”

“Huh?! I can’t hear you. Speak up!” She was in a playful mood and Byulyi hated it. Securing her food on the night table, the blonde groaned again and rolled over onto her stomach, covering her head with the same pillow from earlier.

“Go away! Leave me alone!”

“Huh?! Byulyi, speak up!”

Moonbyul felt extra weight slamming onto her back, before arms wrapped around her waist and high-pitched giggles filled the room.

“Yong, I’m going to throw up! Why would you do that?” The giggles that filled the room were immediately replaced by Moonbyul’s whines.

“Shhh, you’ll be okay. Did you really drink that much that even movement makes you sick?”

“Yes. I did.”

“Aww, my baby” she pried the pillow off of her best friend’s head. Rearranging herself, Yongsun spoke up again, “Come. Lay your head here,” she said, pointing to her lap.

Moonbyul did as she was told.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were **that** hungover.”

The younger of the two gave only a contented hum in response. Familiar fingers were running through her scalp, gently scratching once in a while—exactly how she liked it.

“There’s food in the fridge for you and I brought some medicine.”

“Thanks, Yong,” she said, voice deep.

Minutes passed. Moonbyul was grateful that Yongsun’s ministrations never ended. The gratitude instantly turned to panic when the older woman started asking questions about her night, more specifically, why she had gotten so drunk and what, if anything, she did while drunk.

“I mean, whenever someone gets super drunk like this, there are always fun stories. My night was nowhere near as interesting, so I’m depending on you for a good laugh.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Nothing halfway interesting happened. Heeyeon scolded me for being sloppy and drunk, but that’s about it.”

“Boo. That’s boring.”

This was the second time she’d lied to Yongsun about her affairs when they’d included other women. First she’d lied about what happened with Sunmi, and now she was lying about Haena. Hell, she’d never even mentioned Haena to Yongsun; all her other friends knew about the Vocal Music major though. Moonbyul knew why she was keeping these things a secret from the graduate student. She’d thought about it that day over winter break that her mom had asked about the nature of the relationship between the two of them.

The athlete sat in her room and let herself be honest about what it was she possibly felt for Yongsun. It lasted approximately 5 minutes before she decided that opening that can of worms was absolutely not worth it.

She’d earned the right to, without any guilt, pursue the people she was attracted to. Not her best friend, though. Anyone but her.


	18. They'd Understand

The week and a half at home was healing. Exactly what Yongsun needed.

It wasn’t a matter of needing rest, she had been resting since the second week of December. By the time classes would have started on the thirteenth of January, she’d have had a full month of no schooling. Instead, the break granted the opportunity to bond with her family who, despite all her time off after finals, she hadn’t physically seen in a while.

Her parents still didn’t fully understand what it was she studied, but she was in graduate school at a top university, and that was more than enough for them to brag about. She’d laughed at Moonbyul when the younger girl shared stories of her parents fussing over her every move when she visited home, but she was experiencing the same thing. It wasn’t bad at all. They encouraged her to eat and spend time doing whatever she wanted, no questions asked.

“Where are you going?”

“Why are you assuming I’m going somewhere?”

“Because you normally lay on your ass all day, but now you’re preparing to take a shower. It’s unusual.”

Her sister, though, did nothing **but** ask questions.

The older Kim sister had notified Yongsun a few weeks ago that she was moving back home. At the time, she was ecstatic that her sister was returning. In this moment, though, she wasn’t feeling her.

Up until recently, Yonghee, who was three years Yongsun’s senior, lived abroad. Their parents sent her to high school in England so that she’d better learn the language of that land—they were lucky enough to find a sponsor for her. At the age of 18, she returned to Korea with no intention or desire to apply to colleges or universities, opting instead to work. Her passion was fashion, the design and construction of clothing in particular. With her lack of experience, though, she only qualified for entry-level retail positions. They didn’t get along when she was younger, but one thing Yongsun would always say was that she respected her sister’s determination and dedication to her dreams. Never did her big sister’s conviction waver—she was going to get into fashion.

Three years after returning to Korea, things aligned and Yonghee got her chance. One of her high school friends contacted her looking for help with a clothing line they were planning to debut in London. Yongsun was already away at college when it happened, but she vividly remembered both her parents **and** Yonghee blowing up her phone, looking for her to serve as an impartial third party that they could vent their frustrations to. Her parents were against Yonghee leaving, Yonghee thought they were being unreasonable. Yongsun understood both sides: Yonghee wanted the freedom to pursue her interests. Their parents were concerned about her safety and well‑being.

In the end, Yonghee left and there wasn’t much their parents could do about it. While initially furious with their eldest, their frostiness petered out as they realized, one, she was doing well for herself and, two, their anger was counterproductive because while their biggest concern was her safety, with her thousands of kilometers away, if they stopped all communication, they wouldn’t actually know if her safety was ever endangered. To everyone’s relief, the three resolved their quarrels and Yonghee built a solid life for herself. Five years later, at the age of 26, she was back home to be a thorn in Yongsun’s side.

In truth, she was home to settle matters related to the label’s expansion in South Korea—they were to open a modest boutique in Seoul within the next year and Yonghee was the point person. Yongsun was curious about what these matters entailed because as far as she could tell, all Yonghee did was annoy her 24/7.

“How would you know if I lay on my ass all day unless you, too, were laying on your ass watching me and keeping track of what I’m doing?”

“Watch your mouth. I’m older than you.”

“That’s what you always say when you don’t have a better comeback,” the younger of the two laughed.

“Whatever,” her sister rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though, where are you going?”

“I have a date with Jinyoung today.”

“Ohhhh, that’s cute. What’s that, date number three this week? Awww, you’re blushing!”

“Shut up!”

Her and Jinyoung had been making the most of their break from school and were spending more time together. It was actually the most time they spent together given how busy he was during the semester. She was no slouch, but between his acting and composing, they found few pockets of time to see each other. Yongsun’s schedule for the upcoming semester was going to be more hectic than the first one, so she wasn’t too sure how things with him would turn out if they had even less time to see each other, but that was a bridge they’d cross if and when they got there.

“When do I get to meet him?”

“Never.”

“I’m serious. This is the first person you’ve ever dated, so he must be something special for you to even consider him. You’re always all about school and work. Plus, you’re my little sister. I need to know who this guy is.” The latter end of her statement was in a much more serious tone than everything else.

“Fine,” Yongsun reluctantly agreed. “he’s picking me up at 7 pm.”

*

“Hey, I’m at your door.”

“Okay. I’m coming out. My sister’s coming to the door, too. She insisted on meeting you. I’m sorry.”

She could hear the grin in his voice as he spoke, “No need to apologize. I’m fine with it.”

The door to her parents’ home opened to put the two face-to-face.

“Hi,” Yongsun said shyly.

“Hi,” Jinyoung said in a teasing tone, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on her lips. This was a very new development in their relationship. To Yongsun’s surprise, he had initiated it after their date a couple days ago. It was nice.

“Lips off, big boy!”

“Yonghee, are you serious right now? Stop!” She knew Yonghee didn’t care about the kiss, she just wanted to embarrass her in front of Jinyoung.

“Ah, hello!” He straightened up. “Nice to meet you, Yonghee-ssi.”

“You’re lucky our parents weren’t here to see that little smooch.” She was bluffing. Their parents would be relieved to know their youngest was finally dating. Their entire family knew how concerned their mom was about the youngest’s dating life. Yes, concerned.

Jinyoung’s blush made Yonghee take mercy on him. “Where are you taking my sister tonight?”

“We’re heading to a museum and then we’ll be getting dinner at a restaurant of Yongsun’s choosing.”

“That’s cute. As I said, our parents are not home right now, so I have to be the one to ask: what are your intentions with Yongsun.”

“Omg, let’s go, Jinyoung.” It was clear now that Yonghee was doing this solely to mess with him. Her boisterous laugh confirmed that.

“Bye! Have fun. Take care of my sister,” she waved them off.

“I’m really sorry about that. Had no idea that’s what she was going to do,” Yongsun profusely apologized once they were both settled in his car.

“Hey,” he gently cupped her chin, “it’s okay. It wasn’t that bad. I promise.” The subsequent kiss was more tender than the handful of others they’d had.

All signs, she thought, were pointing towards tonight being the night he’d finally ask her to be his girlfriend.

*

“Are you finally claimed?”

“Do you have to be that crude?” Yongsun asked, plopping onto the living room couch.

“Yongsun, I’m your older sister. I ask that you please accept me for who I am. All of me.”

“You sound like Byul. Ew.”

“You still haven’t answered my initial question. And when do I get to meet the infamous Moon Byulyi?”

“No, we are not official. He didn’t ask me tonight. After the stunts you pulled today, you’re never meeting any of my friends ever again,” she pouted.

“Yongsun, please. You’re grown. Stop with the pouting. Do you do that with Jinyoung? Is that why he kissed you earlier? You were pouting, so he kissed it away? Is that how you flirt?”

“Shut up, Yonghee!”

“Why are you throwing pillows,” she laughed, picking up the cushion that badly missed her head. “Stop overexaggerating, it was a joke. From everything I’ve heard, I think Moonbyul would like my jokes. She sounds like she has a sense of humor.”

“Well, you’re not meeting her.”

“Say that again without crying.”

Yongsun said nothing else at all that night. Completely ignoring her sister, she retreated to her room, washed up, and went to sleep.

*

It’s as if the universe hated her. Literally two days before, she’d told Yonghee to not hold her breath on meeting Moonbyul. This morning, she woke up to the following text:

**From: Byul-ah**

Yong! I’m bored. Coming to visit you at your house today. _10:01 am_

She panicked.

The athlete had been mentioning how much free time she had while back on campus during the winter break, but Yongsun never thought it would come to Byul unexpectedly visiting her one random Thursday.

**To: Byul-ah**

???

You don’t even know where I live. _11:37 am_

**From: Byul-ah**

Did you sleep in late again? Lucky.

I do. You gave me your address last week 😊 _11:38 am_

Damnit. She forgot about that. No one else was home and she was too lazy to go look for food. The two were on a video call when Yongsun suddenly joked about how hungry she was. Moonbyul joked back about sending food for her. Yongsun joked again and shared her address. Thirty minutes and a few “jokes” later, Yongsun’s doorbell rang.

_“Byul-ah.”_

_“Hmm,” she hummed. The junior had propped her phone up as she played video games._

_“My bell rang.”_

_“So answer it, Yong.”_

_“Okay, but I’m not expecting anyone. Why would someone be ringing the bell after 7 pm?”_

_“I don’t know,” the blonde distractedly muttered. “Go answer and see.”_

_“What if it’s a robber?”_

_“Then offer to be their woman. You’re cute enough, they might take you up on it and spare your life.”_

_“Everything’s a joke to you!”_

_“Hurry up and go answer the door before the person leaves!”_

_The graduate student took her phone with her “for protection,” but ended up nearly blowing Byulyi’s ears out with her celebratory shout._

_“Byul-ah! If you were here right now, I’d kiss you. I swear. Thank you **so** much!” It was tteokbokki. _

_“You’re welcome.” Moonbyul tried and failed to hide her proud smile. “Now I’ll have peace and quiet to play my game while you eat. I’ll also be taking you up on the offer for that kiss.”_

_“Shut up! You always have to ruin a good moment.”_

**To: Byul-ah**

Don’t joke like that. _11:40 am_

**From: Byul-ah**

I’m serious. We have a walkthrough in 20 minutes

for our game tomorrow, but I’m free after that.

Going to come visit my bestest friend.

Expect me around 4 pm 🤪. _11:42 am_

True to her word, Byulyi showed up at Yongsun’s door bundled in her puffer coat, sweatsuit, cap, and mask.

“It’s cold. Open the door,” she commanded over the phone.

“No one told you to come. In fact, I told you **not** to come.”

“Yongsun, it’s too cold for this. Open the door.”

“I don’t want to.”

It was a record-level low temperature outside, so there’s no way Yongsun would let her friend freeze, but it felt good to be the one making Moonbyul whine for once instead of the other way around.

“You play too much,” the blonde shivered. “If I get sick from this, you’ll have to take care of me.”

“I promise you I won’t be doing that,” Yongsun laughed.

For 1.5 hours, they had the home to themselves. Yongsun gave Moonbyul a tour before herding the younger girl into her bedroom. That was where Yonghee found them upon arriving home.

“Knock, knock.”

“What’s up?”

“I saw sneakers downstairs and heard giggling up here, so I thought you snuck Jinyoung in for more kisses.”

“Clearly that isn’t the case.”

“Clearly,” Yonghee laughed. “Sorry about my sister’s lack of manners. I’m Yonghee.”

Moonbyul stood from Yongsun’s bed to properly greet her best friend’s older sister. “Nice to meet you. I’m Moon Byulyi, one of Yong’s friends from university.”

“Ah! **You’re** Byulyi! All I here from this one is ‘Byulyi this, Byulyi that.’ It’s nice to finally meet you. She’s cute, Yong.”

“Thank you for saying that, Yonghee-ssi. You’re beautiful yourself,” Moonbyul tried to act smooth. She failed, but it was still endearing.

“I know. Thank you for saying it, though.”

“You’re so conceited!” Yongsun rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if I feigned ignorance to the fact that I’m good-looking? It would be, right, Byulyi?”

“Sometimes it is better to be honest about these things. You’re right, Yonghee‑ssi,” the athlete stammered.

“You can call me unnie, Byulyi, and thank you for backing me up. Yongsun is so unreasonable at times.”

“Yah! Why are you laughing at that Byul? I let you in my home for you to team up with my sister and attack me like this?”

“How do you deal with her, Byulyi? She’s so dramatic.”

“I can say it’s never a dull moment with her, unnie. For all her dramatics at times, Yong is the best.”

Yonghee stared at her for a while, making the junior slightly uncomfortable. “You’re charming. Very. It’s adorable. Anyway, our parents are on their way home. Are you joining us for dinner?”

“Uh . . . ,” she looked to Yongsun for permission. The brunette simply sighed.

“You can stay. I know you want to.”

“I’ll be staying, yes,” Moonbyul beamed.

*

“You’re the first friend that Yongsun has had over, Byulyi! We’re excited to have you.”

“We all thought she was incapable of making friends,” Yonghee deadpanned.

“What about Eric? Eric has come over,” Yongsun countered.

“The two of you were dating, that doesn’t count,” her mom deflected.

This conversation was annoying her, but the way Moonbyul’s eyes bulged out of her head made her laugh genuinely for the first time since the entire family had convened for dinner.

“We never dated,” she explained to the girl at her left, “my mother just says that because she thinks I was hiding something with him. She doesn’t seem to understand **friendship**.” The last part was undoubtedly directed at her mom.

“Okay, okay, if you insist. Byulyi,” Lee Soyoung called affectionately, she had taken a quick liking to the girl, “you understand my perspective, right? Yongsun has never mentioned dating to me. Isn’t it only natural for me to then speculate that she was hiding something? I couldn’t possibly believe that such a beautiful girl isn’t seeing anyone, right?”

Yongsun stared expectedly at her best friend’s side profile. She knew the athlete would feel pressure to agree with her mother, but she also wanted Moonbyul to know that there was pressure to side with her.

“Um … uh … that’s … understandable, Auntie.”

Soyoung had insisted Byul address her that way. Yongsun was surprised when her mother first suggested it, but then realized the older woman was probably so grateful to Byul for being Yongsun’s friend that she took to her immediately. Or maybe Byul was **that** charming. Most likely a combination of the two.

“Thank you!” the older woman exclaimed. “Tell us more about yourself, dear. Yongsun mentioned that you play basketball?”

“Ah, yes, Auntie. I play for our university.”

“Don’t be modest,” Yongsun cut in. “She also plays for the National Team. They’re traveling in a few weeks to try to qualify for the Olympics!”

“Yong, stop,” Moonbyul whispered.

“No, I’m not gonna stop, Byul. That’s a big deal. Why would you hide that? Anyway, she’s **really** good. I’ve watched her play many times. The university team is undefeated in large part due to her. She can beat anyone. I’m sure of it.”

Yongsun took a moment to reel herself in. She realized she had become too animated, and judging by the looks on the faces of the others, so did they.

“We get it, Byulyi invented basketball. She’s the best basketball player ever. Take a breath.” Yonghee‘s sarcastic quips were to be expected. The entire family knew to ignore her half the time, but something in her spirit prevented Yongsun from doing so this time.

“Yes. She did and she is,” the graduate student said with defiance.

“Okay, okay. You two calm down. Moonbyul-ssi, what about your studies? Do you only plan on playing basketball for the rest of your life?” Leave it to Kim Kwangsun to ask the hard-hitting questions.

“No, sir. While I love basketball, and intend to play it for as long as I can, my parents have made sure I understand the importance of education. I plan on applying to business schools at the end of this calendar year and hopefully going into marketing.”

Her dad seemed impressed, but Yongsun was surprised. This was news to her.

“Really?” She whispered. Moonbyul sent a stiff nod her way, keeping all her attention on Yongsun’s father. The older girl was slightly miffed at being brushed off like that, especially when Byul had made that announcement so casually. Never before had she said a word about it, and they talked every day. Interesting.

The rest of the dinner went by without incident. Long after they finished eating, everyone could still be found sitting around the table having conversations about this and that. Soyoung stood to begin clearing the table.

“Auntie, I can help you with that.” Moonbyul was halfway up when her offer was waved off.

“Don’t worry about that, Byul-ah. You work hard enough during the year. I just wish for you to relax. It was thoughtful of you to ask, though. Thank you.” She was smiling from ear to ear, the affection in her voice clear.  
  
Try as she might, Yongsun couldn’t get past her mother calling her friend ‘Byul-ah’. When they first met hours earlier, it was Moonbyul, then Byulyi, now ‘Byul-ah’? She should have been relieved that her mom took this quickly to the younger girl, and she was, but the tiniest part of her was irked. The way her mother was acting head-over-heels for Byul was a bit much. A smidge over‑the‑top. At this point, she wondered if the woman even remembered she already had a youngest daughter.

“Earth to Yongsun,” Byulyi spoke loudly into her ear. Of course, Yonghee joined the junior in laughing at that.

“My mom likes you,” Yongsun stated factually.

“I hope so. I was so nervous when Yonghee-unnie asked me to stay for dinner with the whole family.”

“It seems they all like you.”

“Why do you sound so sad about that?”

“Shut up,” Yongsun pouted.

“Awww, you’re afraid they’ll like me better than you and kick you out of the family to make space for me. It’s okay. They will, but I’d at least help you pack your things up,” Byulyi said while pinching Yongsun’s left cheek.

“You’re annoying,” she exclaimed, slapping away the slim fingers on her face. “You never told me you were applying to business school.”

“Don’t be like that,” Moonbyul wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. Yongsun didn’t think twice about it, she sunk into the embrace. “It was a very recent development. As in, this week recent.”

“We’ve spoken this week and you never mentioned it. You mentioned practice, your games, making the cut for the National Team roster, hanging with Kisum and company for the first time. Feel like you could’ve slipped something about business school in.”

“I’m sorry. Forgive me, please?” She asked softly, looking down at the forlorn girl resting a head on her shoulder. “Plus, it’s all you’re going to hear about once I actually start applying because I’m going to come to you with all my materials, asking you to edit them. Will you?”

“Obviously.”

“Thank you.” Normally in moments like this, Moonbyul would place a quick kiss on Yongsun’s head. The older girl noticed that Byul almost did just then before quickly remembering they were in front of others.

After another hour or so, Byul left with a bag full of food. Soyoung wanted Yonghee to drive her home, but the blonde insisted that she’d be fine taking the train. To put everyone at ease, she promised to call Yongsun as soon as she reached safely.

“Thank you for taking care of our baby, Byul-ah,” Yongsun’s mother had said as she hugged Moonbyul goodbye.

“She’s actually the one that takes care of me, Auntie.”

“Byulyi is nice. I like her. Your dad does, too,” Yongsun’s mom proclaimed.

“I could tell,” the brunette rolled her eyes.

“Oh stop. You know I could never love anyone more than my baby,” she placated Yongsun, pulling her youngest into a tender hug.

“I’m standing **right** here, mother,” Yonghee chimed in.

“**Both** of my babies.”

Yonghee left to her room, and Yongsun was about to do the same when her mom stopped her.

“Yongsun. You know that we love you, right?”

“Is this because I was annoyed about Byul? I wasn’t being serious. I know that you all love me,” she chuckled. Her mom was being . . . weird. She was speaking low, as if this were some type of secret, and her voice was tight.

“Not exactly. It’s just . . . I want you to know that we love you, and that we will always love you. No matter what. We love you. **All** of you. Just . . . know that, okay?”

“Uh, sure. Thank you . . . for that?”

Soyoung pulled her into a tight hug. Yongsun wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but she let the hug happen because it seemed her mother really needed it.

“Be good to Byulyi.”

“Um, okay?” She wasn’t sure how to respond to anything her mother was saying. It was all random. “I’m going to head to my room now. Have a good night, mommy.”

“You, too, baby.”

She got to her room and checked her phone. Two messages, one from Byul and another from Yonghee.

**From: Byul-ah**

I said I’d call, but figured this was quicker. Made it home safely. Thanks for letting me stay for dinner. Your family is so sweet. I love them. _9:45 pm_

Forgot to say it earlier, but your hair looks great. You look beautiful 😍 _9:50 pm_

Yongsun’s hair was now jet black. Yonghee convinced her it would be a good look for her, and so far, it was. Moonbyul joked a lot, but Yongsun trusted her to tell the truth about things like this. If her hair looked silly, no doubt, the athlete would clown her endlessly, so it was an extra boost of confidence knowing that Byulyi liked it.

Her sister’s text was less kind in tone, but it explained her mother’s odd behavior, so she was grateful for that at least:

**From: Yonghee** 🙄

LMAO! They think you’re dating Byulyi 🤣 _10:11 pm_

*

The second semester was kicking Yongsun’s ass. She was once again taking the maximum number of classes allowed for graduate students, one of which was her first _Counseling Practicum_. Not only was the class itself at 9:00 am on Saturday mornings, it required students to spend additional hours throughout the week gaining hands-on experience in counseling settings. Yongsun was assigned to the SNU Academic Support Center for Athletes where she worked as an academic advisor for five first-year Women’s Fencing athletes. Most of them were excellent students, but the preparations for her sessions with them were still time-consuming. On top of that, she was also still working with Kwon Jihun, who kept her on as a lecture student. Instead of assisting him with one of his classes, though, Yongsun was now working directly in his performance laboratory with athletes of all levels. She was gaining invaluable experience and making unbelievable connections, this she knew, but as the semester progressed, it became harder and harder to remember all the good that she had going for herself when her days rarely ended before 7:00 pm.

This week had been particularly challenging. Every class had assignments due and both of her work opportunities were asking more of her than originally anticipated. Her period came ahead of schedule. Things with Jinyoung were frustrating—he still hadn’t asked her to be his girlfriend and she was growing uncertain about where things between the two of them were going.

Just as strands of black hair splayed across her pillow for the first moment of rest in too long, Yongsun’s ringtone sliced through the room.

It became a personal challenge for her. She was determined to outlast whoever was calling. When the noise subsided, a sense of accomplishment childishly overcame her, until the phone started again.

“Are you kidding me?” Whoever was disturbing her much-needed peace was going to get an earful. Angrily bounding across the room to her desk, Yongsun read the name on the screen of the video caller. Of course.

“What, Byul?”

“Hi, Yong. I’m doing well, thank you for asking. It’s so great seeing you after almost a week of being apart from each other.” The junior was abroad with the National Team since the previous Saturday. As irritated as she was in the moment, Yongsun had to admit to herself that she **was** being rude.

“Hi, Byul. How’s Australia?”

“That was much better! Good job. Australia’s so much fun! That’s not what I called for, though. We made it! We’re going to the Olympics!” Yongsun’s mood improved tenfold at that.

“What?! Are you serious?”

“Extremely,” Byulyi smirked proudly. “It doesn’t even feel real yet. We got back to the hotel a few minutes ago. Everyone’s getting ready to go out and celebrate, so I can’t stay long, but wanted to share the good news!”

“Wow, this is wild. You’re an Olympian, Byul-ah,” she said in awe. “What did your parents say?”

“I haven’t told them yet. You’re the first one I called.”

“Oh. They’re going to be so proud. I bet your mom is going to cry.”

“She’s definitely going to cry,” the athlete chuckled. “Going to call them now and then get ready. Pray for my liver, please and thank you. Also, you look like shit. Get some sleep.”

“I was trying, you asshole! Your call interrupted my much-needed rest, but I’m not going to get upset. I realize that this is an important day for you, and I’m not going to ruin it by starting a fight.” Yongsun put a forced smile on her face, making Moonbyul laugh uncontrollably.

“You’re the best, Yong. I’ll let you get back to that rest now.”

“You leave tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, tomorrow, late afternoon so I won’t see you until Saturday.”

“How sad,” Yongsun said devoid of any emotion.

“Oh please! You always act like this and then when we’re actually in the same room, you’re rushing to cuddle and cling to me.”

“Don’t you have a celebration to go to?”

“Yes, ma’am. Bye, Yong.”

“Bye, Byul-ah. Be safe and don’t drink too much.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Yongsun was unable to rest after their call. She was **so** excited for Moonbyul. If given the chance, she’d brag about her best friend all day. Just like that, just by being herself, the junior had improved Yongsun’s mood and brightened her day despite being in another country. She wasn’t sure if she deserved her, but Yongsun would be forever grateful for Moon Byulyi.

Talk of Moonbyul’s parents reminded Yongsun to call her own. She and her dad spoke briefly before her mom took over the call. Yongsun filled her mother in on her hectic week and slipped in some information about Jinyoung, too—since the dinner with Byulyi, she told her parents that she **was **dating someone, but that it was the young man, not her best friend. Even so, Soyoung spent most of the call asking about how things with the athlete were. She only wanted to know how Moonbyul was doing. It was the perfect time, so Yongsun shared the recent Olympics news.

“Yongsun, you **must** send her my message. Tell her that we are **so** proud of her! I can’t believe this! Our girl is going to the Olympics!” She’d long since accepted her mother’s dramatics when it came to Byulyi, so Yongsun let the woman have her moment. There was nothing she could do to stop her anyway. It was best to let her be.

Once off the phone, Yongsun decided to give rest a try again. Bundled in her covers, she was in the middle of her final social media check when she saw a post on Instagram. It was of Byulyi, Heeyeon, and Kisum in their National Team uniforms—the other two had their uniforms on, Moonbyul only wore her team shorts with a sports bra. From what she surmised, this was taken in the locker room after their final game. The three wore goggles on their heads and held champagne bottles in their hands. Even with Byulyi’s defined six-pack trying to grab all the attention, the picture was adorable. The camaraderie amongst the three of them was obvious, and Yongsun couldn’t be happier that her best friend had people like Heeyeon and Kisum by her side through all the challenges of being a National Team athlete.

The caption was cute, too:

3,578 likes

**byulyi** The babies are going 🛸 the Olympics.

View all 2,050 comments

**wheein** Thirst trap.

**hyejin** Thirst trap.

**lhaena** Congratulations, baby! Can’t wait to celebrate when you get back.

|**Byulyi** @lhaena Thank you 🙈 #SundaySundaySunday

|**Hyejin** @byulyi 👀

|**Heeyeon** @byulyi 👀👀

|**Kisum** @byulyi 👀👀👀

|**Wheein** @byulyi 👁️

**heeyeon** Thirst trap.

**kisum** Thirst trap.

34 minutes ago 

The comments from Byulyi’s teammates and closest friends were hilarious. Outside of those, the comment section was full of standard “Congratulations!” or “😍” messages. This Haena girl, though . . . Yongsun was annoyed.

For all her talk about communication, Moonbyul didn’t practice what she preached. Yongsun wasn’t great at sharing her feelings and she still sometimes bottled things up, but at least she could say that she never outright kept secrets from her best friend. The same couldn’t be said about Moonbyul. She was always so sketchy about the most random things. Last semester, it was Sunmi—Chorong had told her that from what she’d heard, much more had happened between Moonbyul and Sunmi than the junior had let on. This semester, Byul had kept her intention to apply to business school a secret from her, and now, here was some woman named Haena calling Byul “baby”. What frustrated her even more was the fact that the rest of her friends seemed to know about this girl. She was the only one left out. Nice.

*

The 21st of February fell on an uncharacteristically warm winter Friday. The sun beamed overhead as the usual stinging gusts of wind took the day off. She wasn’t sure which angels were looking out for her up above, but she was grateful to not have to wear five layers on her birthday.

Jinyoung was adamant about the two of them spending Yongsun’s birthday together. She had no idea what he had planned, but she followed his instructions: she wore something nice and was ready for 8:00 pm.

Watching the streetlights blur together as they zoomed down the streets of Seoul, Yongsun let her thoughts roam free. The responsibility of filling the empty space with conversation was one that she relieved herself of tonight. Jinyoung wanted to take the lead, so she’d let him take the lead.

When the car eased into a parking lot, Yongsun couldn’t help it, she turned to look at him questioningly.

“We’re at my apartment,” he simply said.

“Oh. Okay.” She had no thoughts on it. At the very least, she trusted him and was sure there was a reason behind his decision. They’d never been inside each other’s apartments, though. It would be a nice change of pace, she thought.

He wasn’t the most talkative, but Jinyoung was never **this** quiet, especially not with her. The harsh, bright lights in the elevator made it impossible for Yongsun to miss the beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, or the way he kept pulling at the collar of his black turtleneck.

“Hey, you okay?” Yongsun asked softly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay? Enjoying the elevator ride?”

“It’s the best elevator I’ve ever been in. Highlight of my day.” He laughed lightly at that, and watching him loosen up a little, maybe **that** was the actual highlight of her day. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be nervous. Whatever you have planned, I’ll enjoy and appreciate it.”

“You deserve the best. I just want everything to go perfectly.”

“The car didn’t break down; the elevator hasn’t gotten stuck. Everything’s perfect.” To add an extra layer of reassurance, Yongsun grabbed his right hand with her left and interlaced their fingers, giving his a quick squeeze.

The elevator finally dinged, signaling their arrival at the twelfth floor. The hallway was elegant. Walls freshly painted, beautiful patterned carpets, bouquet of flowers in the elevator waiting area. UV wasn’t frumpy, but it wasn’t **this**. This was **very** nice.

Still holding her hand, Jinyoung led Yongsun down the hallway to an apartment door tucked away at a far end.

“Do you have roommates? You never mentioned having any.”

Punching in his code, he responded, “No. No roommates.”

Now it was Yongsun’s turn to be nervous. She knew it was going to be just the two of them today, but she thought it would be “just the two of them” in public, surrounded by other people. Them being alone in his apartment, it would **really** be just the two of them. This was a first.

“Cover your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Yongsun, I’m already freaking out hoping you like everything. Cooperate, please?”

She took mercy on him and did as he asked. She covered her eyes and was led into the apartment by gentle hands on her waist.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She couldn’t see anything, but it smelled **good**. Yongsun inhaled the scent deeply for five minutes before Jinyoung’s fingers found their place on her shoulders.

“Okay, open your eyes,” he spun her around.

“Is this a drama?” She asked dumbfounded.

“Maybe.”

Taking a second to remove her shoes, Yongsun took everything in. To her right was a door slightly closed, most likely his bedroom, because next to that was the bathroom, a small nightlight illuminating it just enough to see what the room held. A short hallway led to one open room—a living room, dining room, and kitchen all in one. As far as her eyes could see, everything was clean and simple, earth tones: dark brown hardwood floors, beige walls, various shades of gray furniture. It fit Jinyoung. The highlight of everything, though, were the lights all about the room made to look like mini candles and the food set on the table.

“Here, I even got you some house slippers,” he nervously bent down to help place the shoes on her feet.

“You cooked?” Yongsun beamed.

“Yeah, I did. It’s your birthday, um . . . sorry,” Jinyoung nervously cleared his throat. “It’s your birthday. We always go out, so I wanted to make it special and show you how much I care about you, so . . . yeah, I cooked. More than anything else . . . look. We’ve been dating for a few months now and I know you’ve been a little frustrated at times because I’ve taken forever to ask . . .”

He wasn’t . . .

“I like you. I’ve liked you since we first met and I appreciate the patience you’ve had with me. It’s kind of selfish of me to ask this today of all days because it’s supposed to be about you, and if you say yes, then it’s more a gift to me than it is to you, but I’m going to ask anyway and hope you forgive me. Yongsun, will you be my girlfriend?”

He was! He did. He finally asked.

She’d wanted the moment to come for some time now simply because she figured that was the natural progression of things. Now that it was here, all she felt was nerves.

“I’ve never done this before,” she answered, voice barely above a whisper.

“I promise I’ll take care of you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” she breathed, “yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

She felt his hands on her face before his always-soft lips sealed their new relationship by ever-so-gently melding with hers.

*

Exhausted. Yongsun was exhausted.

The night before with Jinyoung was simple. He cooked dinner and made dessert for her. They talked, they laughed, they kissed. He got her home by midnight out of consideration for the fact that she had a 9:00 am class on Saturday morning.

The exhaustion was a new normal for her. Her schedule was demanding. Add on the social commitments she had, and her new official relationship, she was constantly catching up on sleep she’d lost, yet never quite catching up. Tonight was the birthday celebration with all her friends that Chorong organized. The get-together was set to take place at the restaurant that Hodong’s brother owned. The venue made a strong impression on everyone when they gathered there for Jinyoung’s birthday. As with the last time they were there, the group was granted a private room of their own with appetizers, never-ending alcohol, and other perks. It was sure to be a good night.

“Are you excited to party, unnie!”

“You **must** get drunk and let loose tonight. We won’t accept anything less.”

Wheein and Hyejin were ready to go. With these two by her side, things were bound to get wild.

“We’ll see how it goes.”

“None of that!” Hyejin objected. “It’s your birthday, you’re going to get messed up. No questions asked.”

“That sounds aggressive.”

“That’s because it is aggressive. It’s a rule.”

“Byulyi didn’t get messed up.”

“She gets a pass during the season,” Wheein explained, “but we always get her after the season. No one is exempt.”

It was slightly terrifying how seriously these two enforced this rule of theirs.

The three left the cab they were in and entered the venue. Thankfully, a hostess directed them towards their room. Yongsun laughed, realizing that her presence didn’t even seem necessary. ’91 Club had already started their celebration.

“The birthday girl is here!”

“You’re drunk already, Rongie?”

“Am I?”

“You are. So cute.”

“Happy birthday!” Yongsun’s same-aged friend screamed as she pulled her into a bear hug.

“Thank you for putting this together,” Yongsun sincerely muttered into her ear, rocking the both of them back and forth.

“Anything for my girl.”

“Happy birthday!” Eric interrupted.

“Eric, what the hell?”

“Are you surprised? Chorong thought you would be. Yay!”

“Oh my gosh, you’re drunk, too? There’s no way you’re driving back tonight.”

“He’s not, he’s staying with me,” Jinyoung interrupted. “Happy birthday, Yong,” the young man boldly kissed her on the lips in front of everyone.

“Oh yeah! Congratulations,” Eric yelled. Everyone kept yelling and she really wished they’d stop.

“On what? What congratulations?” Chorong asked, comedically whipping her head back and forth.

“Yeah, what congratulations?” Changsub chimed in.

“She and Jinyoung are officially a couple! She told us he asked her last night,” Wheein bragged. She and Hyejin felt good about themselves that they were in the know.

“Finally! Let’s drink to that!” Chorong encouraged.

And they did. They drank to that, they drank to Yongsun’s birthday, they drank to everyone coming together. They drank and drank and drank. Two hours later, Yongsun was sat in the corner, staring off into space with a stupid smile on her face. She wasn’t as drunk as everyone else because she stopped an hour ago, but she was still fairly intoxicated. Enough to loosen her inhibitions, but not enough to be sloppy. A good balance.

Everyone was there except for Moonbyul. Yongsun checked multiple times with Chorong to make sure she actually invited the basketball star. She wouldn’t put it past her same-aged friend to “accidentally” forget to include Byul in the festivities. The junior messaged her and hour ago, though, saying that she’d “be there soon”. “Soon” still hadn’t come.

**To: Byul-ah**

Are you coming or not? If you’re not, just say that. _10:13 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

Parking right now! Be there in, like, 2 mins. _10:14 pm_

The junior’s father had gifted her a car for her birthday, except it wasn’t ready by then, so she’d only recently received it. The car wasn’t new; one of Byul’s father’s friends was a car salesman and helped Moonbyul’s dad find something affordable and safe. All that mattered was that it worked, and it did. It ran well, got Moonbyul from point A to point B safely.

Everything was great, but it would be perfect with Byulyi. Now aware that her best friend was joining them any moment, Yongsun sighed contentedly. She was happy. The moment the door to their room inched open and blonde hair peaked through, the graduate student shot up from her seat and ran across the space. As soon as Byulyi fully entered the room, she had to brace herself for the body that had flung itself onto her.

“Someone’s excited to see me.”

“I am! You’re finally here,” Yongsun whined, legs and arms wrapped around the younger girl like a koala clinging to a tree, face in her neck.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

“What took you so long?”

“I had to pick Haena up.”

That sobered her up a bit. Since the team making the Olympics a few weeks ago, Byulyi hadn’t mentioned Haena to Yongsun and Yongsun didn’t ask. If the athlete wasn’t mentioning the girl, she assumed that meant that they weren’t serious.

Looking up from her friend’s neck, Yongsun noticed for the first time the brunette standing awkwardly behind them. Heeyeon was also there. Yongsun decided to greet her instead.

“Hi, Heeyeon! Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, unnie. I told you yesterday, but I might as well say it again. Happy birthday!” The tall girl hugged Yongsun.

“Thank you. There’s lots of food and lots of drinks. Eat everything and drink everything,” she giggled.

“It may be time for you to eat more and drink less, unnie,” Heeyeon laughed.

“No! She has to get wasted,” Hyejin ambushed their conversation. “Hi, Byul‑unnie, Heeyeon-unnie, Haena-unnie.”

“Hi, Hyejin.” The Haena girl spoke for the first time. Yongsun stared at her for a few beats before grabbing Heeyeon’s hand and pulling her further into the festivities. Introducing her to everyone would ensure that she didn’t have to be near Byul and that girl.

After leaving Heeyeon with everyone else—she fit right in—Yongsun excused herself to the restroom. On her way out, she found Byul perched on the wall, obviously waiting for her.

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

“You sure it has nothing to do with you bringing some random girl to my birthday party?”

“She’s not random.”

“To me, she is. I don’t know her, that makes her random.”

Byul let out a deep sigh and scratched her neck before continuing, “I didn’t think it would that big of a deal, so I brought her.”

“Well, it is.” Yongsun went to brush past the blonde, who was blocking her way back to their private room, but Moonbyul grabbed her hand.

“Can you stop? She and I are seeing each other and I wanted the two of you to meet. You’re my best friend. It’s important for me that you both get along.”

“It’s so important to you that she and I get along, yet you’ve never mentioned her to me? Save the bullshit, Byul. You do this **all** the time. You lied about Sunmi and lied about this girl. Continue keeping your little fuck buddies a secret. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

“Don’t call her that. And you know I don’t do those.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You’re drunk. I’m not fighting with you.”

“Of course. Act like the morally upstanding one. All you do is lie about the stupidest shit. Prancing in here with some **random fucking girl**,” she made sure to emphasize those words, absolutely sure that she was pissing Moonbyul off, “then want to tell me what I can and can’t say. You can fucking leave. I don’t care.”

“Here we go,” Byul rolled her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I should’ve told you about Hae—”

“That **all** you do! You say ‘I should’ve told you, I’m sorry!’ and then proceed to lie about more shit.”

“I **should’ve** told you about Haena,” the blonde continued, “I was wrong.”

“Why do you keep lying to me? Is it some fun game for you? I tell you everything, Byulyi, and all you do is lie to me and then make it seem like I’m overexaggerating when I get upset. It’s not right.” Yongsun took a deep breath after speaking. Her voice had quivered a bit and that was a telltale sign that she was going to cry soon. She refused to give Byul the satisfaction.

“I guess I didn’t want things to change between us? It sounds stupid saying it out loud because our friendship shouldn’t be affected if we’re dating other people, but . . . I don’t know. I don’t know why I kept it from you, and it does look sketchy as hell. There’s no excuse. I just . . . I don’t know. That’s the truth.”

Byulyi sounded sincere. Then again, she always did. Yongsun couldn’t trust her right now.

“I’m going back to my party.” When she tried to brush past Byul this time, the younger woman let her.

*

Toasts started at midnight. Almost all of them were incoherent due to everyone’s intoxication. Everyone was a mess. Except Byulyi.

“Okay! That’s everyone!” Chorong yelled.

“Wait,” the junior spoke up. “I want to say something.”

“It may be best if you don’t,” Chorong slurred. She’d caucused with Yongsun after the slightly older girl’s extended restroom break and learned that, as expected, Moon Byulyi was the source of her friend’s anger.

“As I was saying,” Byul continued, acting as if she hadn’t heard the older woman’s protests, “I wanted to give a toast, too. Everyone here knows that Yong and I are close. Well, obviously, she lets me call her Yong.” Light laughter filled the room at that. “She’s actually pissed at me right now because, as usual, I acted like an idiot, but even if you’re mad at me, I’m not going to let your birthday celebration go by without speaking,” she said meeting Yongsun’s eyes. “You’re one of my favorite people in life. I’m grateful every day that you started that conversation with me in The Commons. If you actually think about it, I wore that shirt, which is why you spoke to me, so, really, **I’m** the reason for this friendship.”

“Booooooo,” Heeyeon shouted at her.

“Calm down, drunk. Anyway, everyone here knows that we’re close. They also know that we fight often because we’re both stubborn and refuse to talk things out, so we end up seeking advice from others on how to fix our stupid ass arguments. There’s a lot that goes on between us that they don’t know, though. We go days talking about everything and nothing. In my most difficult moments, you’ve been the one to draw me out and fill me with hope and strength. You’ve been one of the most supportive people in my life, so it makes me happy that you get to be surrounded by this much love tonight. Everyone else has spoken about how amazing you are and how much you do for all of us, so, if nothing else, I hope tonight shows you that we’re all here to support and love you as much you support and love all of us.”

A chorus of “awww’s” broke out from almost everyone as Yongsun stood up to go hug Byulyi.

“I’m sorry,” Moonbyul whispered into her ear.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I know I need to be better.”

“You say this every time.”

“I know. I’m working on it. I swear. I’m working on it.”

“Group hug,” Wheein proclaimed as she and Hyejin joined their unnies. Yongsun realized that Moonbyul took the opportunity to sneak in a kiss on her head.

It was kind of gross how incapable she was of staying upset at the athlete. The younger girl could pump her up with false promises any day of the week, and she’d always forgive her. She didn’t know why, she just knew it was sick how those brown eyes and that crooked grin owned her. It wasn’t like this with any of her friends. It wasn’t even like this with her boyfriend.

*

The following week with Moonbyul was smoother than Yongsun anticipated. The younger girl had tried several more times to get Yongsun and Haena to interact, before she accepted that Yongsun was fine simply being acquaintances with the Vocal Music student, nothing more. She was fine with Byul talking about the girl if she needed to, but there was no need to interact with Haena. They weren’t friends.

The Women’s Basketball Team had mostly away games the past couple months, but they were ending their regular season at home against Dongguk University. If they won, SNU would earn automatic entry into the National Basketball Tournament where they’d play for a National Championship. If they lost, entry into the competition was not guaranteed. Despite being unbeaten thus far, if they lost, they’d have to enter and win a short regional play-in tournament to continue their hopes of competing for a National Title. Four such tournaments occurred across the country, so if they lost tonight, the chances of still making the National Tournament significantly decreased.

SNU had defeated Dongguk handily earlier in the season, so most fans attended the game under the impression that the game was a sure victory. What no one accounted for was the foreigner that had transferred to Dongguk at the beginning of the semester. She was phenomenal, and was single-handedly ruining the celebration plans created for tonight.

Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin— Haena was off somewhere near Hyejin—sat in shock as the massive Australian sent player after player to SNU’s bench in foul trouble. Dongguk’s game plan was simple—give Mia Williams the ball. And it worked for most of the game. She led Dongguk to an 11-point lead by halftime. SNU came out with an adjusted game plan, though, evaporating the lead by the start of the fourth quarter.

It was a nail-biter. The teams went back and forth, back and forth, until SNU held a slight 2-point lead with one minute remaining. As expected, once Dongguk got possession, they fed Mia, who was triple-teamed. Realizing that at least two of her teammates were open, she pivoted and found an open player opposite her. The girl she found took a 3-point shot, looking for the lead, but missed it badly. Unfortunately for SNU, in her haste to close out and defend the shooter, Byulyi fouled her, sending the girl to shoot free throws. She made all three.

Now down by one point with 30 seconds left, everyone knew Moonbyul was getting the ball. Heeyeon and another one of their best players had already fouled out.

Yongsun’s heart began beating faster, her breathing labored. The cheers from the crowd were deafening. Whether they lost or won would be Byulyi’s doing, and Yongsun couldn’t deal. Grabbing Wheein’s hand, Yongsun squeezed for dear life. The magnitude of this moment was too much for her.

After 20 seconds of dribbling around, the team sprang into action, setting screens upon screens to free Byulyi from the defender that clung to her like life depended on it. With 5 second remaining, they caught Mia at the top of the key, creating an open lane to the basket for the blonde. Turning the corner, Yongsun saw her best friend accelerate like she’d never seen her do before. There was no one in front of her. She was completely open.

“Oh my goodness!” Hyejin yelled. “She’s going to do it. Wheein-ah, Yongsun-unnie, she’s going to do it!”

If she weren’t there, Yongsun would not have believed it any more possible for the crowd to get **louder**. As everyone realized that Moon Byulyi had, essentially, a free, wide-open layup, the celebrations started.

Byul got to the hoop in two dribbles, took the two steps she was allowed, and laid the basketball off the glass with her right hand as time expired. The ball kissed off the glass and rolled around the top of the orange rim before falling off.

She missed. Byul missed the layup. SNU lost the game by one point.

The only sound in the arena came from the Dongguk players who were at the center of the court, jumping up and down, screaming for pure joy at having defeated the nation’s top-ranked Women’s team. Everyone else had been overcome by a shocked silence.

The only thing Yongsun saw, though, was her best friend sprawled on the hardcourt floor, her jersey and arms covering her eyes. They weren’t far from the court, so Byulyi’s sobs could be heard loud and clear, although, she was pretty sure almost everyone in attendance could hear the blonde crying regardless of where they sat. It was devastating.

To their credit, Dongguk players collected themselves and went down the line shaking the hands of distraught SNU players and coaches. They all walked to the opposite end of the floor where Byul remained, each patting her on the head. They contained themselves well, until they hit the tunnel back to their locker room where the celebrations started up in full force again.

“I’ve never been this heartbroken and it didn’t even happen to me personally,” Wheein thought out loud.

“What do we do?” Hyejin asked.

Yongsun had no answer. She heard Haena talking, but immediately blocked her voice out. All she could do was watch as Heeyeon and a couple other SNU basketball players approached Byulyi. Heeyeon crouched down next to her, whispering who knows what into her ear, but the words must have been effective because after what felt like an eternity, the junior sat up, still crying. Heeyeon helped her up and quickly ushered her into the back.

There was no option except to wait.

Almost every player and staff member filed out of the locker room except for Byul and Heeyeon. Waiting with bated breath, Yongsun blew out the air from her cheeks when a first-year on the team approached their group, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time.

“Byulyi-unnie’s still in the locker room. She won’t move or talk to anyone. Heeyeon-unnie’s with her but told me to come get you, Yongsun-unnie. Her exact words were, ‘Get Yongsun-unnie and walk her back here.’”

“Go, unnie,” Hyejin encouraged, “we’ll wait here.”

The pit of her stomach filled with more dread with each step closer to the locker room she walked. The first-year was kind enough to enter the code to the room before walking off. It seemed she, too, didn’t know what to do and figured it best to distance herself from the situation. As she entered the room, a fresh set of sobs tore out of Byulyi.

She looked miserable. Heeyeon knelt in front of her, trying her best to say the right thing, but nothing was sticking.

“Byul-ah.”

The junior looked up immediately, red, swollen eyes meeting sad brown ones. “Yong,” she croaked, tears silently streaming her already tear-stained face.

“Byul-ah,” Yongsun crossed the room to stand in front of her. She grabbed her best friend’s head and held it to her stomach. Moonbyul wrapped both arms around Yongsun’s waist and sobbed her heart out.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, Byul-ah. It’s okay.” Holding her head with a left hand, Yongsun used her right to rub soothing circles on the athlete’s back. When that didn’t work, she sat next to Byulyi and guided the younger girl’s head to her lap. “It’s okay, Byul-ah. Cry all you want. It’s okay.”

“She’s been crying since it happened. Nothing will get her to stop.”

“It’s fine. She needs to let it out. You can go, Heeyeon. I’ll get her cleaned up and then will let you know if I’m taking her to your apartment or mine.”

“Okay. If you need any help, call me and I’ll come back.”

“Thanks. Can you let the others know that I’m staying with her? Tell them they can go and that I’ll update them later.”

“Will do. She only kept asking for you, so I didn’t know what else to do.”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay. Bye, Byul-ah. I love you, okay. Yongsun-unnie will take care of you now. Bye, unnie.”

“Bye, Heeyeon.”

Ten more minutes passed before Yongsun put an end to the pity party.

“Sit up. No more crying.”

“Yong. I lost us the game. How am I supposed to stop crying?”

“You also kept the team in the game. Most of your top players fouled out.”

“I missed an open layup. I fouled the three-point shooter. The worst end-of-game performance any player has had in the past five years, at least. A complete meltdown.”

“So . . . what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what now? Are you out of the National Championship picture?”

“No, but n—”

“No ‘buts’. If you’re not out of the championship picture, that means you have more games to play. What’s the point of using all your energy crying over something that’s done? You can’t get any of that back, Byul-ah. So what’s the point?”

“Now we have to play an extra four games and we have to win them all just to make it to the Tournament.”

“So play the extra four games and win them all. I’m not understanding the problem.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“No. I’m not making it sound easy, Byul. You’ve beat all those teams that are in the tournament, and none of them have some giant foreign transfer student that will suddenly make them better. I’m tired of you acting like you’re some loser. You’re the best fucking basketball player in this country. Start acting like it. You missed a layup, it happens. Don’t look at me like that. It happens. You’re going to focus on that instead of the fact that half your team fouled out and you kept the team in the game long enough to lead with one minute left? They have a fucking Amazon on their team and they still only managed to win by one point.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better because I fucked up.”

“I’m trying to make you feel better because you’re my **best friend** and because you’re fucking **excellent** at basketball. Byul, you’re going to the Olympics. Which other college players in this country are going to the Olympics?”

“Going to the Olympics and can’t make a layup. That’s embarrassing.”

“I’m seriously going to choke you.”

It took almost a full minute, and Yongsun looked on expectedly the entire time, but the response she’d been waiting for finally came. “Kinky,” Byulyi whispered.

“There she is! That’s my girl! Come on, go shower. I’ll take you home after.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Okay. I’ll take you to my place. I’ll order food and we can watch a movie and cuddle.”

“You have class early in the morning. We can’t stay up late.”

“Did I ask you all that, or did I just tell you to shower and let me handle the rest?”

Despite Yongsun’s stern face, Moonbyul laughed, slowly lifting herself up and gathering her supplies for the shower. “Okay. We’ll eat and cuddle.”

Both thought it, but neither mentioned that Yongsun had a boyfriend, and Byul had a sort-of-girlfriend, neither of whom would probably appreciate their partner cuddling with someone else. This was a special circumstance, though. Jinyoung and Haena were reasonable people, they’d understand. If they didn’t . . . well, there wasn’t an option for if they didn’t. They’d just have to understand.


	19. [M] A Technicality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mature content in this chapter (as you can tell by the first sentence).

“Fuck, baby! Byul! Oh my goodness. Yes, right there. Right there!”

Haena’s pleas did nothing but encourage Byulyi to increase the pace at which her fingers rammed into the older woman.

Since the night of their backseat shenanigans two months ago, Byulyi and Haena had been seeing each other steadily. That night was the first time either put action to their previously strictly-flirtatious words, and, with a start like that, there wasn’t really any turning back. It was only logical that things would grow more physical between them.

The desperation in Haena’s voice did inexplicable things to Byul. Never before had the athlete felt this powerful. With her left hand firmly gripping the older woman’s stomach in an attempt to minimize her squirming, Moonbyul looked up through glazed, lust-filled eyes and immediately halted her tongues ministrations. Something about the moment, about **Haena** in the moment, sparked an all-consuming need in Byulyi. The way the brunette’s eyes rolled back as she writhed in pleasure, the beads of sweat pooling on her forehead, her flushed face as her breath grew labored—Byul **needed** to kiss her. And so she began her ascent up the senior’s body. Her fingers never stopped their relentless assault, but she was intentionally and painstakingly slow in leaving behind a trail of kisses everywhere her mouth could reach—between Haena’s legs, up her stomach and chest, on the corner of the other woman’s mouth. Anywhere she could, Byul left haphazard kisses until finally settling on Haena’s neck, marking her now the only thing in mind.

Byul didn’t have to ask. She used to. All the time, actually, but then Haena scolded her. They were at the older woman’s apartment one day, kissing on the bed while fingers roamed freely. Haena was enjoying herself until Moonbyul got to her neck and asked, _“Can I leave a mark? Is that okay?”_ The Vocal Music student lost it.

“_How many times do I have to tell you not to ask me?! You keep ruining the moment, Byul. Every time I get into it, you stop to ask if you can leave a mark. I’ve already told you countless times that you can! Do what you want, I don’t care! Just do it!”_

She never asked again. Well, not about that, at least. Haena was usually open to trying new things, but Byul still felt she should ask permission before breaking out a new position or introducing something else unfamiliar to them.

She was brought back to the present moment when Haena angled her head, allowing her better access. The left arm that she now supported her weight with nearly buckled when the senior reached both hands into Byulyi’s underwear and grabbed two handfuls of the blonde’s tiny but toned ass.

“Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” Haena panted into Byul’s ear, making the younger of the two chuckle. She already knew the brunette was close. The way she clenched around Byulyi’s three fingers made it obvious.

“Come here,” she commanded. Byul had learned quickly that Haena was simple. She didn’t need or want any extra talk in moments like this, just physical closeness, so the junior gave up her assault on the woman’s neck—the freshly bruised flesh there a sign of her good work; it’d last at least a few days—and focused instead on kissing Haena on the lips as passionately as she could, all the while using her thumb to rub her partner’s clit.

She winced a bit at the stinging sensation as Haena pulled at her hair, but dismissed it because, judging by the way the senior’s hips bucked off the bed, her orgasm was coursing through her body.

Neither said anything as the aftereffects subsided, Byul just rolled onto her back and used her right arm to pull Haena close. Reaching to the night table at her left. Moonbyul grabbed the glass of water she had prepared earlier and handed it over, making sure it was secure in Haena’s hands before retreating her own.

“Drink this.”

“I know the drill, Byul. You do this every time.”

“I have to make sure you’re hydrated after all of . . . **that**,” she laughed lightly as Haena playfully slapping her clothed stomach.

“Why am I the one that always ends up completely naked while you get to keep some of your clothes on,” Haena wondered out loud after gulping down the water and resting the glass on the table to her side. She snuggled up to Moonbyul, head on the athlete’s chest, legs entangled.

“Because that’s when I perform at my best, when you’re fully naked.”

“I can’t even make a joke about that. It seems to be true. You outdid yourself tonight.”

They laid in silence for a few minutes before Byul could no longer restrain the caretaker in her. Wiping away the hair matted on Haena’s forehead, she gently asked, “You okay?”

“Mmhmm. Tired, but okay.”

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

No answer came, leading her to believe Haena’d already given in to her exhaustion.

“You’re not like other athletes,” she spoke suddenly.

“What does that even mean?”

“I was hesitant at first to get involved with you. I’d never heard of you befor–“

“Still don’t believe that, by the way,” Moonbyul interrupted.

“You know, you’re humble and cute, but sometimes you’re a conceited pain in my ass.”

“How?! I’m just saying that doesn’t seem realistic. It’s not being conceited, it’s being factual.”

“Well, it was realistic for me. Knew nothing about you before Kisum mentioned you. You can ask her, as soon as she said you played basketball, I think my exact response was, ‘Ew.’”

“Which athlete hurt you?” The junior tried to joke. Haena’s reaction seemed a bit too extreme to believe she hadn’t been scarred by someone else before.

“No athlete hurt me. Some of my friends dealt with that, though. Girls, guys, it was always the same. Athletes have this godlike mentality, as if everyone else should be lucky to be in their presence. I hated it then, I hate it now. They walk around every day looking for a new body to keep their bed warm and they think that because they’re hot, it’s okay for them to treat others poorly.”

“So what you’re saying is … I’m hot.”

“I very clearly stated that you’re **not** like other athletes.”

“Get out of my bed.”

“It’s **my** bed,” Haena laughed. The blonde laid there, content with listening to Haena’s happiness.

She couldn’t dispute much of what had just been shared—many university athletes **did** behave that way. It was why Byul tried so hard to **not** act like that, to think things through instead of recklessly hooking up with everyone that threw themselves at her. Perhaps that was part of what made girls pursue her even harder? She couldn’t be sure.

“You’re quiet. Why?”

“Thinking. You’re not wrong. There are quite a few that act like that. Not all, though.”

“Like you. You’re sweet. Very thoughtful and respectful. I lucked out.”

“Yeah. Instead of playing with your heart, I’m constantly begging you to be my girlfriend and getting rejected.” The words slipped out, and she tried to hide the hurt behind them, but failed spectacularly at doing so. It’s not like Haena didn’t already know how she felt about the situation.

“Byul,” the older woman warned.

“I know. We’ve talked about it but it still hurts. We go on dates, we have sex, we’re exclusive. It’s a relationship in everything but name.”

“Then let it be a relationship in everything but name, Byulyi. The reality is that I’m leaving in three months. It doesn’t make sense. Why can’t we simply enjoy the time we have together? If I were going to be here longer, you wouldn’t even have to ask. I’d happily walk around calling myself your girlfriend in a heartbeat, but that’s not the case.”

As it typically was when they had this conversation, Haena’s voice was pleading, begging for understanding. She would graduate in May, then leave Korea altogether in June, heading abroad to a Master of Fine Arts (MFA) program in England.

After getting over her initial reluctance to being with Byul in any way, shape, or form—the junior had campaigned hard to convince her that she wasn’t the player many others made her out to be—Haena fell quickly. It was as if all the shit she talked about athletes came back to bite her in the ass. She was with an athlete. Not just **any** athlete, Moon Byulyi. It was a sick joke, one that came with much more than she initially thought.

A few weeks into their ‘thing,’ Haena sat Moonbyul down. She refused to go further until they shared their concerns and discussed potential roadblocks. That was something new to Byul. It was no secret that communication wasn’t her strong suit, but the way Haena nonchalantly broached difficult conversations made her want to be better at it.

Haena expressed feelings of discomfort with the number of women constantly attempting to catch the younger girl’s eye. Moonbyul was honest about the lewd messages and provocative pictures sent to her DMs every day on social media sites, but swore on everything that she never entertained any of those people and never would. She also promised to be firmer about boundaries with women that approached her in person. The sincerity of her words were proven true a week later when she ran into Sunmi in the UV lobby.

Since what happened in Sunmi’s apartment, Moonbyul had been cordial whenever the two ran into each other; if the model got a little handsy, she’d let it go as to not hurt Sunmi’s feelings. That day, though, Sunmi was more flirtatious than usual. As gently as she could, Byul informed her that she was seeing someone and that while she wanted her and Sunmi to be able to interact when their paths crossed, she wouldn’t do so at the expense of the relationship she was in. If Sunmi couldn’t stop with the suggestive comments, she’d said, then they couldn’t be friendly with each other. The conversation that followed was uncomfortable and unproductive. Sunmi was angered by how “convenient” it was that Byulyi “wasn’t looking for anything” when it came to her, but suddenly had something with someone else. Moonbyul knew she was irate when the girl started her response with, “_I just find it funny how_ . . .” People using that phrase rarely ever actually found ‘it’ funny. Needless to say, the two were no longer on speaking terms, **but** the junior proudly recounted the story to Haena later that night. It felt great being able to back her words and promises up with action.

Her and Haena also discussed time, or lack thereof. Between training, school, and her friends, Haena acknowledged that Moonbyul didn’t have much free time—Byul said she’d do her best to be as present and attentive as she could in the time they carved out for each other. So far, she had. Haena was also upfront about the concerns she had regarding her own time at SNU running out. She wasn’t looking for a full-fledged relationship—Byul said it was okay. The only question the athlete had at the time was if Haena was seeing anyone else. The senior assured Moonbyul that she wasn’t and that she wouldn’t as long as the two of them were continuing whatever it was they had.

It was confusing, then, that they always ended up arguing about something Byul originally said she understood and was okay with.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not mad **at you**,” she clarified. “I’m mad at the situation.”

“I’m sorry,” Haena affectionately kissed her chin.

“I know.”

“I’ll hurry up and fall asleep because I know you want to leave.”

Byul said nothing. If she disagreed with what Haena had just said, she’d be lying. Their thing was supposed to be that they didn’t do that with each other.

*

“Why the long face, lover girl?”

“Not in the mood, Heeyeon,” Byul said, flinging her keys onto the kitchen counter.

“Uh oh. What’s wrong?” There was genuine concern in the senior’s voice.

“Haena.”

“You two fought?”

“About the same shit.”

All Heeyeon could do was sigh sympathetically. She knew the details. From the very beginning, she suggested Byulyi check her feelings and simply enjoy having someone at her side that genuinely liked her and wasn’t mixy. Haena wasn’t using Byul for social climbing purposes and seemed pretty lowkey and laidback. Overall, she was a nice girl. The basketball star could never leave well enough alone though. She always had overcomplicate things.

“For all intents and purposes, she’s your girlfriend. What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t know, Hee. If we’re ‘basically girlfriends,’ then why not call it what it is? Either way, we’re heading to the same result: an end to things in a couple months.”

“With the way you keep pestering her about this, she might very well put an end to things sooner than that,” Heeyeon razzed.

Her attempt at injecting some levity into the otherwise serious conversation fell flat, so she tried again.

“I’m not going to tell you that it’s not a big deal. It clearly is to you. Labels change things, though. Not always, but usually. Maybe instead of trying to guilt-trip her into officially being your girlfriend, ask more questions about why she’s okay with being your girlfriend—because she is—as long as the two of you don’t use that word.”

“Whatever,” Byul sneered. She **hated** when Heeyeon made sense. It was **so** annoying. “Did you re-up for next year yet?”

“Doing it tomorrow.”

“Cool.”

After spending the entire first month and a half of the new year obsessively checking her digital and physical mailboxes, Heeyeon finally received her acceptance letter from Seoul National University’s Business School.

Handling logistics for her transition to graduate school were nowhere near the top of her list at the moment, the only exception being figuring out where she’d live. As she told Byulyi, “_I like my room and the rent’s affordable. In terms of roommates, I could have it worse than you. I’ll just live here._” Heartwarming.

“Looking forward to at least one more year of awkwardly walking in on your sexual escapades!”

“It was **one** time,” Byul exasperatedly reminded her. “Haena and I apologized; I cleaned the couch. You weren’t even supposed to be home.”

“First of all, that still doesn’t excuse you having sex on the couch. It’s a communal space. Nasty ass. Second, my apologies for getting dumped that day. I’ll work on making sure future breakups occur at times more convenient for you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Junsu recently ended things with Heeyeon. He wanted more, she didn’t. They’d both known for some time that the day would come, so it wasn’t a surprise for her. The only surprise was retiring to her home after a free meal—he still paid for dinner—and finding her roommate and Haena doing sinful things in the living room.

“Jokes aside, you good? Need anything to help you feel better?”

“Actually,” Byulyi seriously considered the proposition, “a cuddle would be nice.”

“I’m not Yongsun-unnie. I’m the friend to offer a video game or drama-watching session.”

“Ass.”

“I have a cute one, yes. Thank you for noticing.”

“You’re useless. I’m going to sleep.”

“Take a shower first,” Heeyeon shouted at Byul’s retreating form. “You smell like sex!”

The blonde thought the middle finger she threw up perfectly communicated all the words she didn’t have the energy to verbalize.

*

April brought much-needed tranquility to Byulyi’s life. Everything was stable: her grades, her relationships, and basketball.

Her grades were not as high as the semester before, but between juggling everything else on her plate with the rigor of notoriously challenging SNU Business courses, it was a miracle that she was doing as well as she was.

Things between her and Haena were smooth, mainly because she stopped bringing up the g-word conversation. They had one to two months left together. Arguing over why they weren’t officially official seemed a waste of time, so Byul focused instead on enjoying having Haena in her life.

Basketball was slowly but surely becoming fun for her again. After her meltdown against Dongguk, the SNU Basketball Team went back to basics. Coach Ok and the rest of the coaching staff were merciless in practice about attention to detail and execution. As she told the team, “There are no fingers to point. Everyone played horribly. No one should be proud of themselves.” Although that hadn’t fully convinced Moonbyul that their loss wasn’t solely her fault, Coach Ok called her to her office one day for a one-on-one conversation; it was as close to a heart-to-heart as was possible with the seasoned coach. She told the junior flat out that the loss was not her fault and that if they were in the same situation fifty more times, she’d demand the basketball be in Byul’s hands each time.

Knowing that her coach and team still had faith in her helped Byul relax a bit in their remaining games. The reset did everyone else well, too, as they all approached the rest of their schedule with a renewed focus, returning to the SNU team everyone expected them to be. They won the games they needed to and left a growing list of demoralized opponents in their wake as they advanced in the National Basketball Tournament (NBT). Their latest victim was Yonsei who, just as at the beginning of the season, they handily defeated in the semifinals, this time on the road. The finals the following Friday would once again be a showdown between Seoul National University and Korea University for the championship.

As soon as the game ended, though, basketball was pushed to the back of Moonbyul’s mind. Knowing that she was busy the next two weekends—NBT finals and Wheein’s birthday, respectively—she had cleared this one of all social commitments. It was Haena’s weekend. The two hadn’t seen each other in a week and a half due to Byul’s hectic schedule, and she felt the need to make it up to the older woman.

“Hi!” Haena exclaimed as she swung her door open.

“Hi!” Byul tried to match her enthusiasm as she entered the apartment. The junior went to drop her overnight bag in Haena’s bedroom before heading to the living room. She slumped onto the couch, taking a moment to collect herself. Once the team got back from Yonsei, Byul made a beeline to her car—she’d left it in the Athletics parking lot before the team left for their game—and drove directly to Haena’s apartment. She was **tired**, but it helped knowing she’d be spending the night.

The couch dipped slightly and she felt eyes suddenly on her.

“How was the game?”

“We won,” Byul answered, eyes shut. She was comfortable with her head resting against the back of the couch and her hands clasped on her stomach.

“That’s exciting, even though you don’t sound excited.”

“I’m just tired, I’m sorry. We play KU next week. Who are you going to root for? Be warned, the way tonight will go depends solely on your answer to that question.”

“Hmmm,” the senior pretended to think about it, “I’m obviously rooting for my baby.”

Turning her head slightly to the left, Byul opened her eyes and asked, “I’m your baby?”

“Of course you’re my baby,” Haena smiled sweetly at her.

Things were so stress-free with Haena. Byul loved that. She gently cupped the brunette’s chin and pulled her in for a chaste kiss. It didn’t stay chaste for long, though. The junior maneuvered the two of them until she found herself on top of Haena, hands greedily gripping at the woman’s waist, tongue exploring the older girl’s mouth.

“I bought food,” Haena tried to push the athlete off of her. “We should eat first. We can do this later.”

“I’m not hungry for food,” Byul replied, voice rough.

“Byulyi,” Haena breathed, “we should stop. Come on. You need to eat **food**.” A groan left Byul’s mouth before she placed a tender kiss to Haena’s neck and sat up.

Moonbyul eventually calmed down and the two went on to enjoy their very late dinner. An hour and a half later, she was waiting on the couch for Haena to return from the bathroom.

“Your phone was going wild in your bag. Here,” the senior said as she handed the device to Byulyi, crawling into the younger girl’s lap.

All of her friends knew this was her weekend with Haena, so she wasn’t sure who would be blowing her phone up and why. Checking the screen, she grew concerned for a moment:

**Wheeinie**

**10 Messages**

**Ahnyonce**

**6 Messages**

**Missed Calls (4): Wheeinie**

**Missed Calls (2): Ahnyonce**

“It’s Wheein and Hyejin calling and messaging. I’m going to see what they need. Be right back.”

Heading to the bedroom, she closed the door behind her and tried getting in contact with Wheein first. The phone rang once before a frantic Wheein picked up.

“We’ve been calling you **forever**!”

“My phone was in the room. What’s up?”

“Yongsun-unnie’s sick.”

“Huh? Sick how? What happened? Is she okay?”

“From what she said, it’s cramps. But, like, **really** bad ones. She was crying when she called us, and you know she hates when people hear her crying, so the pain has to be really bad. Hyejin and I are in Jeonju this weekend, so we can’t check on her, which is **why** we were calling **you**.”

Wheein was pissed.

“Where’s Jinyoung?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care, unnie! Does that even matter right now?”

“I’m not saying it in a bad way,” Byul tried to explain herself, “I was just asking, Wheein.”

“Is that her,” she heard Hyejin ask in the background.

“Yeah, it’s her.” The disdain was clear in Wheein’s voice. “She said her phone was in her bag.”

“Look, I’ll go check on her, okay?”

“Keep us updated.” Wheein’s command was the last thing she heard before the short-haired girl hung up the phone.

Yongsun was in pain, Wheein and Hyejin were furious at her, and now she had to cancel on Haena. April started off too good to be true. Heaving a defeated sigh, Byul opened the bedroom door and reluctantly headed to deliver the bad news.

“Is everything okay?” Haena asked softly.

“No, not really.”

“What’s wrong?” She opened her arms for Byulyi to climb into.

“Yong’s sick and Wheein and Hyejin are gone for the weekend so . . . I have to go check on her.”

“You’re not coming back tonight, are you?”

“Probably not,” Byul regretfully conceded.

“Damn, you were right. We should’ve had sex earlier,” she laughed. This was why Moonbyul appreciated Haena so much. She always tried to make the most of any situation.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Get up. If she’s by herself, you don’t want to waste more time.”

“Thank you for understanding,” the athlete leaned in for a kiss.

“Of course. Text me when you reach, and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Will do.”

*

Painkillers, soup, tea, a heating pad, enough solid food to last the rest of the weekend. Byul figured that would be everything Yongsun would need.

People may have assumed that having a six-pack would be the best part about all the physical training athletes did. In fact, it was being able to carry all grocery bags in one trip, and she was never more grateful for that than in this moment.

There was also a bit of luck as she made her way to Yongsun’s apartment: the security guard at the front desk was kind enough to buzz her through the doors, and someone on the elevator up was thoughtful enough to press the third-floor button for her.

Punching in the code to her friend’s apartment, the athlete deposited all of her arm’s contents onto the kitchen counter and sped to Yongsun’s bedroom. The sight was heartbreaking. The graduate student lay on her bed in fetal position, clutching at her stomach.

“Yong,” she sighed. It was hard to watch. Climbing onto the bed, she held her friend’s face while asking, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she gasped between sobs. “The pain started this afternoon and I thought it would go away, but it got worse.”

“Where’s Jinyoung?”

“It’s his mom’s birthday, so he went home for the weekend.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” She wasn’t going to lie. The fact that Yongsun called everyone under the sun except for her stung a lot.

“It was your weekend with Haena. I didn’t want to bother you.” The amount of sincerity with which Yongsun said that made everything sting even more.

“Look at me, you’re never a bother, okay. Don’t let me hear you say that ever again. If you need me, no matter where I am or who I’m with, you call me and I’ll show up. Okay?”

“Okay,” the older girl nodded, hiccupping from all the crying she had done.

Byul wiped her tear-stained cheeks with the pads of her thumbs before hopping off the bed and heading to the kitchen. Despite her mind being scattered, she moved with urgency to prepare everything she needed. Byul grabbed the bottle of painkillers and the heating pad and ran to the room before remembering that Yongsun would need food before she could take the painkillers, and water to wash the pills down. It was slightly comical how frantic she grew, all while Yongsun lay there in pain.

It took several trips from the kitchen to the bedroom, but Moonbyul finally succeeded in quelling the older woman’s pain. She was fed and full of painkillers. That would do for now.

After taking a moment to pat herself on the back for a job well done, the athlete sent an update to Wheein, Hyejin, and Haena: Yongsun was feeling better and she’d stay the night to watch over her. Everyone agreed that was for the best.

When Yongsun dozed off for a bit, Byul ran to her apartment down the hall to grab a change of clothes. Upon returning, she cleaned the kitchen up a little before heading back to her best friend’s bedroom and climbing into the bed.

She’d done well since winter vacation to keep non-platonic thoughts about her best friend at bay. Yongsun had Jinyoung, she had Haena. That should have been enough to keep her mind from wandering. Usually, it was, but tonight, as she lay in the darkness with the silence of night engulfing her, there nothing for her mind to do but wander. And it wandered to exactly where she needed it to not—her feelings for Yongsun. They existed. They were getting harder to ignore. And tonight wasn’t helping at all, especially not when Yongsun lay next to her letting out soft groans of pain now and then.

Byul could have plugged in the heating pad and placed it on her friend’s stomach. She **should** have plugged in the heating pad and placed it on her friend’s stomach. Instead, she scooted closer and hugged Yongsun from behind, carefully rubbing and massaging the elder’s midsection. She told herself it was nothing more than her fulfilling the promise she’d made to their friends to take care of Yongsun, but when the sleeping woman backed into her, seeking more contact, Moonbyul couldn’t as easily rationalize why her heart began beating faster. She couldn’t ignore—as she tended to do—how **right** it felt holding the smaller woman in her arms.

What she once thought was a fleeting crush was revealing itself to be much more than that, and Byul just did not have the energy any longer to fight it. The least she could promise herself was that she wouldn’t act on her feelings, because that would be wrong. Yongsun was in a relationship.

If the feelings happened to pop into her head, though, she wouldn’t rush them away because, technically, she didn’t have a girlfriend. That’s what Haena had been telling her for the past three months. It was kind of, sort of a bit slimy of her to use this loophole to absolve herself of feeling guilty about this whole situation, but Byulyi quickly felt better again when she reminded herself that she wasn’t going to act on her feelings, so she wasn't being **that** slimy.

After months, the athlete had finally reached the point where she was fine with letting herself feel the feelings that she felt for Yongsun. It was fine. She technically didn’t have a girlfriend, so it was technically okay.

Thank goodness for technicalities.


	20. Smash or Pass?

“Happy birthday, Wheein-ah!”

Hyejin wasn’t one for spectacles, but for Wheein, she’d make all the spectacle in the world if it put a smile on her childhood best friend’s face.

“Happy birthday, Wheein-ahhh!” Yongsun joined in from across the table. Her intention for the night was to loosen up and live freely with no regard for what those around her thought. Fun. She wanted to have pure, unadulterated fun this weekend. And while she couldn’t say for sure that the shot she took a few minutes ago was helping her in accomplishing that goal, it certainly wasn’t hurting.

Yongsun, Wheein, Hyejin, and Moonbyul ventured into Seoul proper, opting to take the celebration of their second youngest away from SNU and the neighborhood immediately surrounding it. It’s what Wheein wanted. While the group had plans to party the next night with a handful of Wheein and Hyejin’s other friends, the short-haired girl wanted to spend her actual birthday with her family—that’s what she’d called them. And who was Yongsun to say no to that? Since her birthday, she had been unintentionally neglecting her friends and Jinyoung, favoring instead her job with Kwon Jihun, her classes, and advising the five athletes assigned to her. She owed her friends this weekend. She owed **Wheein** this weekend.

She often tried to express herself through actions, but Yongsun was aware that she rarely ever verbalized how much she treasured her friends, which was a shame, she thought, because she was **so** grateful for having them in her life.

Everyone knew about her and Byul. Two peas in a pod. An otherworldly connection. Yongsun could talk about her for hours on end. Moon Byulyi was her person.

Not everyone fully understood, though, her feelings for Wheein and Hyejin. They were the younger sisters she never had. Her babies. Admittedly, the initial stage of her friendship with them went as smoothly as it did because of the effort put forth by the two younger girls. **They** welcomed her to the group they had with Byulyi, **they** were proactive about initiating and including her in social activities, **they** looked after her. Since then, neither had stopped doing any of those things, but as Yongsun found her footing at SNU, she grew into what she believed to be a respectable unnie to the two. When they were stressed with their studies, she organized breaks to get their minds off things. When they went out to eat, not only did she make sure they never paid, she also made sure they had enough leftovers for a meal the next day. If they had worries about something, she listened and tried to give them good advice. A lot of actions that she hoped conveyed how she felt about them, but no actual declaration. That needed to change.

“Wheein-ah, I love you. So much. You, too, Hyejin-ah. I love the two of you. You’re my babies. We can’t ever grow apart, okay?” She spoke as her feet carried her to their side of the table, coming to stand between their seats with one arm thrown around each of them.

“All of a sudden, Yongsun? That one shot must have been powerful,” Byul teased.

“You’re just jealous, unnie,” Hyejin stuck her tongue out.

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Because Yongsun-unnie loves us more than you, right, unnie?”

“I love my babies,” Yongsun quickly placed pecks on Hyejin’s left cheek and Wheein’s right.

“See? She gives us kisses. Does she give you kisses, Byul-unnie?”

Yongsun watched the exchange, noticing the challenging tone of Hyejin’s voice and the humorless laugh Byul let out. It seemed like they were talking about something else, something that wasn’t her business.

“I don’t know what you two are talking about, so I’m going to leave you to your conversation while I give Wheein more kisses. Lots of kisses for the birthday girl.” As Hyejin vacated her seat to occupy the chair next to Moonbyul—an intense whisper conversation promptly began—Yongsun focused on back hugging the object of her affection and showering her with kisses, thoroughly enjoying Wheein’s husky laugh.

It was an adorable scene, one that was cut short by the clearing of a throat.

Both she and Wheein looked up to find an unassuming woman standing at the head of their table. She wore an oversized black bucket hat with her hair in a bun at her nape. Skinny jeans and a baggy short-sleeved charcoal button up shirt adorned her tall and lean frame, a familiar forearm tattoo peeking out.

“Jihye-ssi. Hi.”

“Hi. Uh, sorry to interrupt,” the woman nervously gestured to Yongsun and Wheein. The former still had her arms wrapped around the latter.

“Oh no, you’re fine. What’s up?” Yongsun promptly disentangled herself.

“I was wondering if we could talk? Outside?”

“Sure. Yeah, that’s fine,” Yongsun stammered. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone else from SNU tonight, and she certainly didn’t expect to be pulled aside for a private conversation. Taking in the way Moonbyul eyed Jihye skeptically, Yongsun took a moment to reassure her friends. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“You sure?” Byul asked, eyes still trained on the visitor to their table.

“Yeah. It’s fine. I’ll be right back.” Before scurrying off, she placed a quick kiss on Wheein’s cheek, causing the younger girl to screech.

“Yah! Unnie!” She immediately covered her face where Yongsun’s lips made contact, the brightest of smiles adorning her glossed lips.

Once outside the restaurant, Yongsun took the opportunity to appreciate the comfortable spring evening. The light breeze, no doubt, helped to calm her rose-tinted cheeks. She was in the middle of a deep inhale when Jihye spoke up.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Yongsun nearly choked on the air she was taking in. Her fists rapped her chest as she coughed lightly to clear her airway.

“Huh?”

“The girl you were kissi-, never mind. It’s not my business. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“Oh! No! No, it’s fine. Um, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s like a little sister to me. It’s her birthday so we came to celebrate. Wanted to try getting away from SNU for a little bit.”

“Yikes. And here I am, bringing SNU to you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that! It’s fine. Really.” She and Jihye weren’t close, so Yongsun didn’t expect them to effortlessly fall into comfortable conversation, but they **had** spoken a few times before. Never before was it as awkward as this conversation was turning out to be.

“Cool, cool. I’ll make sure to buy a round of drinks for your table. Y’know, for her birthday and everything.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

Kang Jihye was a second-year Athletic Training (AT) graduate student. For the duration of her time in the AT program, she worked solely with the Women’s Fencing team as a Graduate Assistant (GA). Her responsibilities included all that one would expect a trainer to take care of, but she also served as the liaison between the team’s coaches and the Academic Support Center for Athletes. In this capacity, she received weekly progress reports from academic advisors on the status of Fencing athletes. For the most part, Jihye was simply taking note of who attended mandatory study hall hours and who didn’t. She got more acquainted with Yongsun, though, because of the five Fencing athletes assigned to the first-year graduate student, one was the team’s academically‑challenged star, Choi Yunseo.

“So . . . I made this conversation sound much more serious than it really is. Sorry about that,” the older woman nervously scratched her neck with a bashful laugh.

“No worries. I thought I did something wrong, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“No, not at all. It’s great news, actually. Yunseo’s grades from the last wave of midterms came in. She’s passing every class now.”

Relief crashed over Yongsun in waves. It had taken months of hard work to reach this point. Yunseo started the semester on academic probation. She was one of the Fencing team’s strongest members and there was a lot of pressure on Yongsun to help improve her GPA to at least a C average. That was all the coaches needed her to achieve, otherwise Yunseo would be academically ineligible to participate in competitions and practices for the remainder of the school year. The two of them met twice each week, coordinating tutoring schedules, assessing Yunseo’s learning style, adjusting her note-taking and study methods. No stone was left unturned—Yongsun worked with the first‑year to completely overhaul her approach to school. Hearing that their efforts were yielding positive results removed a weight from her shoulders that she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying.

“Wow! I’m not going to say that I can’t believe it, because that would be admitting that I doubted my ability to help her, so instead, I’ll say . . . wow. Just wow.”

“Not going to lie, that was my reaction when I found out, too,” Jihye laughed softly.

“Understandable.”

“Right? I love the kid. Excellent fencer, school . . . not so much.” She wasn’t wrong.

“Are you even allowed to say that?”

“Thank goodness I’m not a coach, just a lowly GA. I can speak more freely.”

“Not so lowly. All the fencers I work with love you. You must be doing something right.”

“I paid them all to say good things about me.”

For the nth time since their conversation began, Yongsun’s laughed filled the empty night.

“I don’t remember you being this funny when we talked before.”

“I don’t remember ever being funny. You’re the first person to react this strongly to my jokes.”

“My friends make fun of me for that. I laugh a lot.”

“It’s not a bad thing. That’s a beautiful approach to life to have, though.”

‘Beautiful’ was a bit strong to describe how easily amused she was, but maybe Jihye was that type of person, someone that said philosophical and exaggerated things at times. There were certainly people like that in the world.

“Anyway,” Jihye filled the sudden silence, “the coaches are ecstatic. So is Yunseo and the rest of the team. I was supposed to pass on everyone’s gratitude during our next check-in, but I ran into you here and figured I’d let you know ahead of schedule.”

“I’m happy you did! It’s feel-good news.”

“Yeah, it is.” Jihye was stalling. Yongsun thought they’d addressed the crux of the conversation, but the older woman didn’t seem like she was ready to head back into the restaurant. “Um, we don’t know each other that well, but I feel like I know you’ll reject what I have to say next, so I’m letting you know that I won’t take no for an answer.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all,” Yongsun joked.

“As a token of gratitude for all your hard work with Yunseo—all the fencers you work with, actually—I was hoping you’d let me take you out for coffee one day?”

“Oh! Sure! Why not? It would be cool to interact with each other outside of the work environment.” That wasn’t what she expected Jihye to say. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she expected the GA to say, but this was a nice surprise.

“Nice! Thought it was going to be more difficult than that to get you to agree to it.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

“I see that now. We should probably exchange numbers, yeah? Would make organizing this much easier than if we did it by email.”

“Good point.”

They shared contact information before retreating to their respective friend groups inside the restaurant.

*

“What was that all about?” Hyejin hadn’t even let Yongsun sit down before launching into her inquisition. Wheein and Byul were making it no secret that they, too, wanted an answer to that question.

“She’s a GA with the Women’s Fencing team. Gave me some good news about one of the athletes I advise.”

“We’re supposed to believe that a conversation **that** long was just to give good news about one athlete? I’m not buying it.”

“Not sure what else to tell you. One of my kids turned her grades around and the whole team’s ecstatic about it. Jihye offered to take me out for coffee as a token of gratitude. That’s all.”

“I knew it!”

“Here you go,” Yongsun rolled her eyes. Now was a good time for another drink.

“Say what you want, unnie. As soon as she came over and asked to speak privately, I knew she was going to ask you out. Didn’t I say that, Wheein?”

“You did. She called it, unnie.”

“She didn’t ask me out. Not like **that**.”

“Not like what? Like a date? She **definitely** asked you out like that. It’s obvious she likes you.”

“Oh my goodness. You’re being absurd. She doesn’t like me, she’s just being nice. And I’m in a relationship.”

“Literally no one knows that except you, Jinyoung, and your closest friends, unnie.” Hyejin’s roaring laughter was infectious. Yongsun and Wheein burst out in a fit of hysterics.

“I’m mad that I’m laughing. It’s not funny.”

“Unnie,” Wheein choked out between laughs, “it’s true, though. You don’t even post him on social media. He’s like a ghost.”

“**No one** knows he exists,” Hyejin said, still chuckling.

“How is he, anyway? How was the musical last weekend?” Bless Wheein for redirecting this conversation.

“It was great! Thank you for asking. He’s really talented. Everyone kept saying he has a great voice, but hearing him sing in front of an audience like that, I was in awe. Met his parents.”

“Oh, you two are, like, **official** official, huh?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t sound so excited to talk about your **boyfriend**,” Hyejin teased. She was enjoying this a bit too much, Yongsun thought.

“We’re together. What else is there to say? You want the dirty details of everything?”

“Yes, **please!** I’d love that.”

“Ew, Hyejin,” Wheein giggled.

“Oh hush, the two of them are hot. If someone said they **didn’t** want to know what goes on behind closed doors, they’d be lying. Right, Byul-unnie?”

The junior gave Hyejin the middle finger and continued eating her food. The satisfied grin on the youngest’s face told everyone that she got the reaction she wanted.

*

“Are you still upset that I missed the game last week? I’ve said sorry a million times. Please don’t be mad at me.” Yongsun threw in a pout for good measure. Moonbyul always gave in when she pouted.

She couldn’t be sure, but it felt like the athlete was mad at her. Byulyi would laugh and joke whenever Wheein and Hyejin spoke, but once the conversation turned to something about Yongsun, the blonde would grow quiet. Their friends excused themselves to the restroom a few moments ago, so the graduate student took the opportunity to clear the air.

“I’m not upset about that anymore.”

“So why are you being weird?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are. You’re not even looking at me right now.” She wanted this to be a serious conversation, but Moonbyul turning to look at her with eyes opened exaggeratedly wide made it hard to keep a straight face.

“How about now? I’m looking at you. Is that better?”

“Stop, I’m serious,” she lightly punched the blonde’s shoulder.

“So am I. I swear on everything I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay. Well, for the millionth time, I’m sorry.” At that, Yongsun leaned over to wrap her arms around Byul’s waist and rest her head on the younger girl’s shoulder—they had long since moved their chairs close enough for this to not be a chore.

After what seemed like an eternity, she felt Byul’s right arm drape around her shoulders, both letting out sighs of contentment.

The two had a bit of static between them the previous week. SNU played KU in the finals of the National Basketball Tournament on Saturday evening. Jinyoung had his musical that same evening. Yongsun told Byul the night before that she’d be attending her boyfriend’s event instead of the championship game and afterparty.

_“You’re joking, right?” Byul said in a low and controlled voice. It sent chills up Yongsun’s spine._

_“I . . . I know it’s the biggest game of the year and I’m sorry. I really am, Byul-ah. It wasn’t an easy decision to make,” she responded faintly. The athlete’s judgmental eyes on her made Yongsun clam up._

_“I’m disappointed in you. Of all people, I never thought you’d put a guy before your friends.”_

_“That’s not fair, Byul. You know it’s not like that. I barely see him. The least I can do is show up for one of his biggest performances of the year. I’m trying to save a relationship.”_

_“At the expense of another.”_

_Any possible response she had to that died on her tongue as she caught the look in the blonde’s eyes. They weren’t going to resolve anything that night._

And they didn’t. Yongsun went to Jinyoung’s musical, all the while sneaking glances at SNU Athletics’ Twitter account for video highlights and score updates. It took overtime, but SNU won. Heeyeon was the MVP with 33 points, 12 rebounds, and 4 blocks. Byul wasn’t so bad either—25 points, 11 assists, 5 steals. Yongsun sent her a congratulatory text as soon as the game ended. Moonbyul sent back a stiff “thanks.”

Yongsun figured the best course of action would be to give the girl space. When she was ready, she’d let Yongsun know. The day after winning the championship, Moonbyul did just that via text message:

_“My body’s dead, but I remembered the massage voucher you got me for my birthday. Will be scheduling it this week. I forgive you_ _, but only because of your gift-giving skills. The musical better have been good _ _🙄_ _”_

They did their usual “I’m sorry,” “It’s fine” routine and went back to texting and video calling all the time, but with how hot and cold Moonbyul had been with her tonight, Yongsun assumed she was still miffed about the previous weekend. That’s the only thing she could think of that would cause the athlete to be so weird around her.

“Ew, get a room!”

“Go back to the restroom,” Byul shooed Hyejin away.

“Of course **you’d** say that. You look super comfy right now.” Yongsun felt the junior stiffen slightly, but chalked it up to this back-and-forth she and Hyejin had going the entire night.

“Let’s play a game! Let’s play a game!” Wheein chanted, banging her fists on the table to match her chant’s rhythm.

“What game do you want to play?” Yongsun asked, still nestled in Moonbyul’s arms. Wheein opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Jihye.

“Hey, Yongsun. I’m heading out, but wanted to say goodbye to you before I did.”

Yongsun’s attempt to stand up was thwarted by Byulyi, whose arm tightened around her. She looked quizzically at the junior before responding to the GA. “I hope you had a good time tonight! It was great running into you.”

“Definitely. I’ll message you about that coffee get-together.” She tuned to Wheein and said, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your birthday celebration.”

“Thank you! And thank you for the drinks!”

“Any time. I’ll leave you all to it. Have a great night.”

The woman had been gone only for a few moments when Yongsun turned to scold her friend.

“What was that?!”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, Byul. I went to receive her properly and you physically kept me from getting up. That’s rude.”

“She’ll be fine. You’re overreacting.”

“I’m not. That wasn’t nice.”

“I’m sorry,” the blonde cheekily responded, a sly smile on her face.

“No you’re not,” Yongsun whined.

“Shhh, Wheein wants to play a game,” the junior deflected. “What game are we playing, Wheein-ah?”

“Yay! Let’s play ‘Truth or Dare, Dare or Dare, Truth or Truth, Smash or Pass, Fuck, Marry, Kill’!”

“Huh? All at once?” Yongsun needed clarification.

“Yeah. The person asking gets to choose from any of them. If the person they ask doesn’t answer the question or do the dare, they have to drink.”

“I’m in! Sounds fun,” Hyejin enthusiastically supported the idea.

“Like you didn’t help her come up with this,” Byul rolled her eyes.

“Cry about it. Anyway, my turn.” Of course Hyejin was chomping at the bit to get things underway. “Byul-unnie. Dare or dare: that girl at the table next to ours keeps sending heart eyes your way. I dare you to go get her number.”

The two held each other’s gazes for a few seconds before Moonbyul said, “Yong, pass me the alcohol, please. I’m taking a shot.”

Boos rained down on her as she happily swallowed the liquor, face scrunching as the liquid travelled down her throat.

“That is so weak,” Hyejin objected.

“I’m with someone.”

“Are you, though?”

“We don’t have labels, but yeah. Pretty much.”

“I see. Is Haena-unnie the only reason you didn’t want to do it?”

“She’s one of the reasons.”

“What are the other reasons?” Yongsun caught their youngest sneaking a look her way before focusing on Byulyi again.

“Since when are this many follow-up questions allowed? Wheein?”

“She’s right, Hyejin.”

“Ugh, fine. Big baby.”

They took turns grilling each other, none of them taking the challenges to heart. It was all in good fun. Mostly.

“Byul-unnie: fuck, marry, kill: Yongsun-unnie, Haena-unnie, Sunmi-unnie.” **What** was Hyejin on? It couldn’t be the alcohol because none of them were drunk. A comfortable buzz maybe, but not drunk. The wry smirk on Byul’s face told Yongsun that the athlete was thinking the same thing.

“Good one, Hyejin,” the junior clapped, some bite in her voice.

“I know. We’re all waiting for the answer.”

“Not killing anyone. Fucking Haena, marrying Yong.”

“Oh my goodness, look at Yongsun-unnie’s face,” Wheein exclaimed. “You’re so red, unnie.”

“It would be at the same time, though. Would be married to Yong **while also** fucking Haena. I need variety, y’know?”

“You’re a pig!”

“Calm down, Yong,” Byul replied affectionately, grabbing hold of Yongsun’s hands so that the older woman couldn’t hit her anymore. “It’s a joke. I would never marry you, you’re too violent.”

“Shut up!”

“See!” The athlete laughed genuinely, enjoying the scene she’d caused. “It would never work.”

“My turn,” Wheein declared. “Yongsun-unnie, truth or truth: would you date a woman? A bunch of people ask me if you like girls and I’ve never known. Of course, this stays between the four of us. I’m not going to tell anyone, I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, unnie. For the two of you,” she pointed to Hyejin and Byul, “this is the **only** question that I’m allowing one of us to not have to drink if we don’t answer.”

It was thoughtful of Wheein to provide as many safety nets for her as she did, but Yongsun didn’t need them. She’d thought about it before. Not specifically if she would date women, but about dating in general. In theory, she was open to dating anyone that she found herself attracted to. The issue was that she rarely found herself attracted to anyone because, until recently—and still, not even then—she didn’t have the time to think about any of that. It had always been school and work. Things with Jinyoung came about because he and the ’91 Club were persistent in nudging her to consider him as a viable option.

“I would, I guess. There’s no reason to not date a woman, I just . . . don’t really think about dating anyone. I’ve always been busy with school and work, but if someone came along that I really liked, I guess I’d give them a chance.”

All eyes at the table were on her. She kept her sights set on Wheein, but Yongsun **felt** the others staring at her.

“Follow-up question. Will you allow it?”

“Sure, Wheein. It’s your birthday, so go ahead.”

“Are there any women that have caught your eye?”

“I’m in a relationship, so I haven’t really been looking,” she chuckled as Wheein nodded in understanding.

“That makes sense.”

“My turn!”

“Hyejin, you’ve gone like fifty million times,” Byul rolled her eyes.

“So this will be fifty million and one times. Byul-unnie, smash or pass: Yongsun-unnie.”

“Okay, **what** is going on?” Yongsun asked.

“What do you mean, unnie?”

“Why do you all keep putting me in these questions? Is it because her teammates joke about me and her dating?” Yongsun had eventually caught on to members of the basketball team referring to her as “wifey”. At first she found it weird—they weren’t dating—but she grew to accept that athletes tended to show affection for each other through jokes like that. She was fine with it now.

“Uh . . . yeah, that’s why,” Hyejin said unconvincingly. “It’s my last question about you, though. You’re off the hook after this.”

“I’m not mad or anything, you don’t have to stop.”

“Yes, she does. She does have to stop,” Byul jumped in.

“Whatever. Answer the question. Smash or pass: Yongsun-unnie.”

“Marry.”

“Yah! Byul-ah! You’re so annoying! Why are you like this?!” Yongsun’s tantrum sent them all into hysterics.

*

“Sorry I’m late, Rongie! Had to stay after to speak with my professor.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t waiting long. Got here a few minutes ago.”

“That’s a relief. Do you already know which flavors you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

“Same.”

Yongsun and Chorong agreed on Monday to meet up on Saturday at an ice cream shop near campus. They both had their Counseling Practicum on Saturday mornings, just different professors. This was a nice change of pace from the previous weekend where she marathon-celebrated Wheein’s birthday.

With their cups of ice cream settled in front of them—mint chocolate chip for Yongsun, cookie dough and vanilla for Chorong—conversation flowed naturally, as it tended to do.

“Can you believe in a couple weeks we’ll have completed our first year of graduate school? How wild is that?”

“Still can’t believe it. Everything went by so quickly.”

“Preach. You’ve had an eventful year, though. Got involved in a lot, found yourself a boyfriend.”

“More like **you** found me a boyfriend.”

“I’d say I did a decent job for you.”

“Yeah. Jinyoung’s great. We just don’t see each other, which kind of defeats the purpose of being in a relationship.”

Time with Jinyoung was scarce and Yongsun was at wit’s end. Their relationship wasn’t working, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. They were **trying**, so hard, but things weren’t improving. Neither checked their phones during class, resulting in responses to messages coming hours later. If she had a few hours to spare, he was in the studio, had scripts to read, or would come to her apartment and fall asleep immediately. If he had free time, she was studying, prepping for her advising sessions, or would fall asleep on the phone with him. It wasn’t working.

“Yikes,” Chorong tried to sympathize. Yongsun didn’t want to put her in an awkward position. Jinyoung was her friend, too, and having her in the middle of their relationship, though it never seemed like Chorong minded, was unfair and something Yongsun refused to do.

“It’s whatever. We’ll figure it out.”

“Are you going to drop us if things don’t work out between the two of you?”

“Obviously not. You’re going to be my roommate next year. It would be weird if I dropped you as a friend and had to see you in class and at home every day.”

Yongsun had mentioned in passing one day that Misuk was graduating at the end of this semester. Chorong’s interest was piqued. She was looking to move into a new apartment and asked if she could take a tour of Yongsun’s place in UV. One thing led to another and the two concluded that their living together wouldn’t completely ruin their friendship. She was set to move into the apartment in June.

“You know what I mean, smartass.”

“You all are my friends. I’m hoping that Jinyoung and I can stay friends, too.”

“You’re talking like you’ve already made up your mind to end things,” Chorong observed, devouring a spoonful of cookie dough.

“I don’t know.”

“How long has it been?”

“Counting the time we were getting to know each other, five months. Officially together, two. Not long, but long enough to notice the issues.”

“Do what’s best for you. If things don’t last, no one in the group is going to blame you.”

“That’s a relief.”

“We’re just as much your friends as we are his.”

“Thank you. Hearing that helps ease a lot of the stress I had if things went south.”

“You keep saying ‘if’ like you aren’t planning on dumping him tomorrow,” she laughed.

“I’m not dumping him tomorrow.”

“Okay, fine. Next week.”

“I can’t stand you,” Yongsun snorted.

“Statistically, forever wasn’t in the cards for the two of you, Yong. Marriage or breaking up, those are the only options for any relationship.”

“Well, when you put it like that . . .”

“Exactly. All you can hope is that you learn a lot from the experience.”

“That’s a mature approach to relationships.”

“I guess,” Chorong shrugged. “What’s the biggest lesson so far that dating Jinyoung has taught you?”

It was great question. One she hadn’t before thought of. When it came to Jinyoung, her thoughts always revolved around ways to keep their relationship afloat—things she could do and say to drag them to another day together. Taking a step back, now, though, there was one major takeaway.

“Never date a friend.”

Peals of laughter and spoons scraping the bottom of empty ice cream cups. Not the worst sounds to be accompanied by on a beautiful late-April Saturday.


	21. ????

**To: Ahnyonce**

You’re the fucking worst. _11:17 am_

**From: Ahnyonce**

You have the wrong number.

This is Hyejin. The fucking best. _11:19 am_

That whole thing yesterday.

Not funny. Seriously. _11:19 am_

Pls. It was hilarious.

Unnie didn’t even notice anything.

You’re being dramatic. _11:22 am_

Um? I’m not?! _11:22 am_

Well. You shouldn’t have told me if you didn’t

want me to make fun of you. _11:24 am_

Told you months ago to leave her ALONE.

That was your punishment for not listening. _11:26 am_

I didn’t even do anything! _11:27 am_

You did: You started liking her.

Get a job and stay away from my unnie. _11:28 am_

Uh, she’s my friend, too? Wtf._ 11:28 am_

No. She’s your crush. _11:30 am_

She’s also still my friend. _11:31 am_

Couldn’t tell by how possessive you were

being when that Jihye girl showed up.

Just piss on Yongsun-unnie next time. _11:35 am_

You’re exaggerating. _11:35 am_

I’m not. Ask Wheein. _11:36 am_

WHEEIN knows?! _11:37 am_

She asked me why you were being weird

about Jihye so I told her 🤷‍

If you weren’t being a **weirdo**, no one would’ve realized.

She would’ve just thought you were acting that way

to annoy Yongsun-unnie. Blame yourself. _11:42 am_

So now you’re gonna shame me into

not liking her anymore? _11:43 am_

Basically. Yeah.

Embarrass you into admitting that you like her

more than you’re letting on

AND THEN shame you into not liking her anymore. _11:50 am_

How is this friendship? _11:54 am_

It’s saving a friendship.

Actually, it’s saving several friendships.

The entire group is gonna get awkward if you make a move on her.

It’s better to leave it alone. _11:57 am_

What Byul left alone was that text message. Sent no response. What was there to say to that anyway?

Hyejin thought her feelings for Yongsun were shallow and fleeting and the junior could only blame herself for that. The two met up for dinner the Wednesday before Wheein’s birthday when the topic happened to come about.

_Their conversation thus far followed no logical progression. Byulyi and Hyejin jumped from topic to topic, following wherever their scattered brains led them. Now that her university basketball season was over, an inordinate amount of free time made its way back onto her schedule, allowing her to connect with her best friends without having to work around hours’ worth of training and lifting and recovery and games. She had **time**. And today, Byul was ecstatic to spend some of that precious time with Hyejin, her mischievous baby._

_When it came to the Jeonju girls, she had no favorite. It was impossible to prefer one over the other. Wheein and Hyejin were very much a joint package, but they also had their own distinct personalities and ways of being, both of which the junior enjoyed._

_Wheein was only three months older than Hyejin, but her life’s circumstances had infused in her the wisdom and maturity—at times—of someone at least three times her age. She always took it upon herself to lift the spirits of those around her, neglecting herself at times. Which is why she and Hyejin worked so perfectly, complemented each other so well._

_Hyejin was … a baby. Not in a disparaging way, but more literally. In her family, she was the youngest. Between her and Wheein, she was the youngest. In their friend group, the youngest. That was the role she usually assumed regardless of the space she found herself in—she was always the youngest. And as the always-youngest, she was constantly spoiled and handled with care. Yes, she was mischievous and troublesome. She could afford to be because everyone let her get away with whatever. From that babying, too, though, grew a fierce independence. Hyejin was brazen and unapologetically her. Being the youngest granted her the freedom to fully be who she wanted to be. And she ran with that._

_This was foreign to Byul, who, if not always the oldest, typically found herself filling a leadership role, be it formal or informal. Life for her consisted of expectations and responsibilities. The carefree attitude that Hyejin so instinctively embodied was one the junior admired and sometimes envied a little._

_At times, though, Hyejin took things too far. She just … didn’t listen sometimes. Most times. Like now, as she, for whatever reason, steered the conversation in the direction of Yongsun and her boy._

_“They’re cute, don’t you think, unnie? He’s good for her.” Her mouth was full of noodles, growing more full as she voraciously stuffed her mouth to capacity._

_“I don’t think about them so I have no opinion.”_

_“You don’t think about one of your best friends and her partner? That’s a lie.”_

_“Take my phone and ask her,” Byul hastily offered Hyejin her device, “I don’t talk about him.”_

_Hyejin raised a questioning eyebrow but said nothing until her noodles were properly chewed and swallowed._

_“Please. Keep your phone. Who knows what types of messages and pictures are on it,” she screwed up her face in disgust. “But yeah, that’s weird. She’s one of your best friends. Why wouldn’t you want to know how her relationship is going? And it’s not like he’s some rando, he’s had a fairly consistent presence in her life for almost her entire time here at SNU.”_

_Hyejin pointing out that last part made Byul more annoyed than she usually was when Jinyoung was mentioned._

_“Ew.”_

_“Mature, unnie.”_

_“He’s **boring**. Why is no one else pointing this out? She can do **much** better.”_

_“He’s not boring, you’re just being mean. He’s quiet.”_

_“I’ve met quiet people that aren’t boring.”_

_“Whatever. You don’t like him. You’ll find something negative no matter what.”_

_“Okay.”_

_They both took time to eat more of their meals before Hyejin circled back._

_“I just–, I don’t get it. Did he do something to you? Was he rude or something? I can’t imagine him being like that, especially not with the best friend of his girlfriend, but I guess things happen,” she mused._

_“He didn’t do anything to me. There’s just … nothing to like, Hyejin. There’s nothing special or interesting about him. He’s … blah. Y’know what, let’s talk about something else. We’re not going to agree on him.”_

_Aware of the contemplative eyes on her, the blonde carried on as usual, focused on picking up the perfect amount of noodles and kimchi._

_So consumed with her food was the junior, Hyejin’s sudden gasp almost went unnoticed. Almost._

_“What are you making all that noise over there for?”_

_“You like her,” the younger of the two sat stunned._

_Byul’s chopsticks froze halfway to her mouth. **If** Hyejin was referring to the correct “her”, there was no way Moonbyul could deny it. She also couldn’t be honest about the depth of her ever-growing feelings for Yongsun. Panicked, the athlete did a quick mental scan of alternative ways to get out of this._

_Downplaying the entire situation would be the best course of action._

_“Her? Who is this ‘her’ that I supposedly like?”_

_“Yongsun-unnie. That’s why you don’t like Jinyoung-oppa. Because you like her.”_

_“And you’re sure that I like Yongsun?”_

_“Tell me that you don’t.”_

_She couldn’t do that._

_“She’s pretty,” Byul shrugged, doing her best come across as aloof._

_“That’s why you like her? Lots of women are pretty.”_

_“What do you want me to say?”_

_Several expressions flitted across Hyejin’s face before one of disappointment settled._

_“If it’s simply a matter of you thinking she’s pretty, then please, **please**, just leave her alone. I’m sure you wouldn’t do anything to ruin her friendship with all of us, but in case **this** is the moment you’re considering taking after me and acting reckless, don’t.”_

_“We’ll see.”_

_“I feel like you’re more serious about her than you’re letting on.”_

_“It really doesn’t matter. She’s in a relationship, Hyejin. With your precious Jinyoung-**oppa**,” Moonbyul masterfully evaded._

Hyejin certainly got the last laugh during Wheein’s birthday dinner. It was brutal. Almost as brutal as watching that Jihye woman so obviously flirting with Yongsun. Right in front of everyone!

Byul sat back in her bed and rolled onto her stomach, shoving her face into the refreshingly cool pillow. It helped tremendously in soothing her heated face. Hyejin wasn’t entirely wrong—her behavior after the Jihye incident was embarrassing. Thinking back to how she prevented Yongsun from bidding the woman a proper goodbye, a hint of shame began creeping in. She shouldn’t have done that.

In the long run, she hoped that incident would fade from Yongsun’s memory. She hoped Jihye would, too.

*

**Faves** 😍

**Yong**

[Emergency] She thinks this is a date! Omg 😰 _6:38 pm_

**Ahnyonce**

The sky is blue. Water is wet. _6:39 pm_

**Wheeinie**

**IS** water wet, though? Or does it make other things wet?

Because things only get wet after making contact with water,

so water itself can’t be wet.

It can’t wet itself. It’s just water. _6:40 pm_

**Ahnyonce**

Seriously, Wheein-ah? Now?

You want to do this now? Are you high? _6:41 pm_

**Wheeinie**

No, I’m intelligent. _6:41 pm_

**Yong**

Okay, cool. But Jihye thinks this is a date?!

Maybe help me with that and be philosophical later? _6:42 pm_

**Ahnyonce**

What do you want us to say? She thinks it’s a date.

There’s nothing to help with. _6:43 pm_

**Yong**

How do I tell her I thought it wasn’t? _6:44 pm_

**Wheeinie**

“Jihye-ssi, I thought this wasn’t a date.” _6:45 pm_

**Yong**

The two of you are being like this on purpose.

You **know** what I mean. _6:45 pm_

**Wheeinie**

🙄 Tell her you didn’t know it was a date, you thought the

two of you were meeting up as friends

and that you’re seeing someone. _6:47 pm_

**Yong**

What if she gets embarrassed?

I don’t want to hurt her feelings. _6:48 pm_

**Ahnyonce**

Then go to her place and fuck her.

She’ll feel better after that. _6:49 pm_

**Yong**

HYEJIN! _6:49 pm_

**Wheeinie**

OMFG 😂 😂 😂 😂 _6:50 pm_

**Byul**

???? _6:51 pm_

**Ahnyonce**

Hi, Byul-unnie. Yongsun-unnie needs help.

She’s on a date with Jihye because she didn’t listen to us

when we told her that it was a date 🙃.

Any suggestions for your **friend**? _6:55 pm_

**Byul**

Nope. You and Wheein have it covered.

Good luck with that. _6:56 pm_

Yeah. She didn’t have the time or patience for this nonsense.

*

For the first summer since matriculating at SNU, Byul didn’t have to worry about moving and finding storage for her belongings—her apartment at UV was leased for at least one more year. Yet here she was, slaving in the oppressive heat customary of a mid-May Korean day. The cardboard boxes she’d been assembling and packing all day were no kinder. They did a number on her—several of her fingertips were decorated with pink, sore spots from repeatedly jamming against the boxes’ sharp edges and corners. If she were a lesser person, Byul would’ve left halfway into the first hour, but she was still here, five hours later, assembling, packing, and carrying boxes of varying sizes and weight.

“Can’t you at least turn the air conditioner on?”

“It’s already on, Byulyi.”

“Then turn it higher. It’s hot in here.”

“All these months later and your whining hasn’t gotten any more attractive. It’s unbecoming of you.”

“I’m not whining,” Byul took offense to that.

“You are. The air con is working just fine.”

“Of course **you’d** say that. You’re lounging over there on the couch while I do all the work.”

“I’m not lounging, I’m taking a break,” Haena rolled her eyes.

“It’s been 20 minutes,” the younger of the two indignantly clarified, taping **yet** **another** damned cardboard box. With her need to be useful temporarily outweighing her irritability, though, she rolled her eyes while asking, “What’s going in this one? I’ll label it.”

“Bathroom stuff. And you’ve been counting how long my break has been?” Haena asked amused.

“Yeah, I have. At first I thought you were going to relax for a couple minutes, then you just kept sitting there watching me do all the work, so I started keeping track of time. I was thinking, ‘This girl can’t be serious,’ and wanted to see how far you were going to take this.”

“Honestly, I was going to get back to packing after about five minutes, but you looked so good at work all focused and in your zone,” the older woman finally rose from her couch, slinking over to Byul, who had begun assembling and labeling another box.

“No. Don’t try it. Get off me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Haena ignored her girlfriend-but-not-her-girlfriend’s petty rejection. She continued with wrapping both arms around Moonbyul’s neck from behind.

“I do.” Despite her protests, the junior didn’t stop Haena’s actions.

“You’re gonna be mean to me right before I leave,” Haena whispered into Moonbyul’s right ear before lips latched onto the younger girl’s neck.

“You’re not leaving right now. We have some time still,” Byul tried her hardest to sound disinterested. Her neck was her weakness.

“There’s no such thing as enough time with you. I’ll always want more,” the brunette seductively crooned.

“Ew. You sound like me,” Byul laughed.

“I guess I am what I eat.” The shocked expression the athlete wore made Haena burst into hysterics. Figuring they’d had enough time goofing off, she placed a final peck on the junior’s neck before retreating to the bathroom with one of the boxes Moonbyul had assembled for her.

Haena’s apartment lease didn’t end until the end of the month, and she didn’t leave for England until the middle of June, but ever the proactive one, the senior decided to pack up her apartment ahead of time. The plan was to head to Incheon at the end of this week to stay with her parents for the remainder of her time in Korea. She and Moonbyul would drive up on Friday in a rented moving truck before Byul drove the truck back that night to return it—the junior insisted on this after learning that Haena intended to do it all on her own.

They had four days left together. Although Haena would be in the country for another month, most of that time would be spent running here and there to get everything ready for her big move, so Moonbyul knew they wouldn’t see much of each other after Friday. Despite knowing the day would come, she hadn’t given much thought to what that would feel like. Now she knew—it sucked.

While what they had started unexpectedly, their unique relationship grew over the past five, almost six, months, into something she hadn’t realized she’d been missing: companionship. Looking back on everything, the athlete wished she’d spent less time fussing over labels, and more time enjoying her time with Haena. She wasn’t sure if the same applied for Haena, but Moonbyul had learned a lot from the older woman. She’d forever appreciate Haena tremendously and would miss her a great deal.

*

After another three hours of packing, Haena called it a day. She bought dinner and drinks as a ‘thank you’ for Moonbyul’s help, setting everything up on the floor in her mess of a living room. Thus far, Byul was doing an exceptional job of not allowing their impending separation to dampen their time together.

“I’m going to miss you a lot, you know.”

“Duh. I’m Moon Byulyi. Who wouldn’t miss me?”

“Stop,” Haena lightly slapped the younger woman’s shoulder. “I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” Byul responded in earnest. “It’s not goodbye, though.”

“Let me guess, it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later?” Haena chuckled.

“Yeah, actually, it is. Watch, once the Olympics are over, I’ll be ridiculously famous and will have access to all kinds of rich people things.”

“‘Rich people things.’ Sounds legit.”

“Super legit. I’ll have access to a private jet.”

“So you’ll come visit whenever you start missing me?”

“No. I’ll send the jet to pick you up when I’m in the mood for a booty call.”

Thankfully, Haena enjoyed that joke.

“Imagine if you actually had booty calls? That would be a mess. There’s no way you’d be able to handle that.”

“At all. It would be embarrassing.”

“I kind of want to see that happen now. It’d be hilarious.”

“Oh yeah?” Moonbyul asked as she lunged at Haena, tickling the brunette and enjoying the fit of giggles that filled the apartment.

Things grew more tense as the athlete found herself on top of Haena, pinning her to the floor. Taking in the woman beneath her, Byulyi decided to be serious for a moment. Haena had been nothing but patient and understanding with her, even when she was nothing but a headache. Moonbyul wanted to make sure the older woman knew how she felt.

“I’m going to miss you. Seriously.”

“I know, Byulyi,” Haena whispered, tears forming.

“I wish we had more time,” she confessed.

“Me, too.”

Everything Moonbyul had shared was the truth. Her feelings for Yongsun were something to contend with, but she also genuinely liked Haena and was saddened to no longer have such a dynamic woman in her life.

With these thoughts swirling in her head, Byul decided she’d spend the rest of her time with Haena living in the moment—she didn’t want to regret anything later. And so, she leaned down and chastely connected her lips with Haena’s. The two exchanged sweet pecks for some time before their emotions heightened and their kiss deepened.

They took their time over the course of the night saying with their bodies all that they couldn’t quite say with words.

*

“Chorong’s what?”

“She’s moving into the apartment with me.”

“She’s not.”

“She is.”

“Then I guess this friendship has been fun while it lasted.”

“You are so dramatic,” Byul saw Yongsun roll her eyes. “It’s not that serious.”

“It is. If she’s going to be your new roommate, then I can’t visit your apartment ever again. Those are the rules. She and I are sworn enemies, Yong.” She was clearly overexaggerating for the fun of it, but the junior wasn’t joking about Chorong’s presence potentially changing things.

“Wait, you said that our friendship would end. That doesn’t make sense.”

“What about it doesn’t make sense?”

“Why would our **entire** friendship have to end? Let’s say her presence means you can never **ever** step foot into my place again, you and I could still talk on the phone, video call, or text. I could also just come to your apartment instead.” This is what Byul appreciated about Yongsun. No matter what nonsense she sent the graduate student’s way, Yongsun played along.

“Mm mm,” the blonde shook her head, “if we’re on the phone, I might hear her voice in the background. Ew. If we video call, I might hear her voice **and** see her face in the background. Double ew.”

“You sound like a child.”

“That’s what all old people say.”

“I’m not old! Take that back,” Yongsun whined. It took every ounce of self‑control for Moonbyul to not reach across the couch and pull Yongsun into her arms—she’d been working on limiting their physical contact without making it obvious. That was proving itself to be much harder than the athlete initially thought it would be.

A little over a month had passed since Byul helped Haena move into her parents’ home. A week ago, the older woman left for England. From a conversation they had a few days ago, it seemed there was a lot for Haena to adjust to. She was making friends with a few other first-year MFA students, though, and that was helping immensely with easing the transition. Moonbyul was proud of her for so brazenly pursuing the career she wanted. The call also reminded her of how much she missed Haena and, more specifically, Haena’s touch.

By no means did sex dictate her life, but going from having sex regularly to having zero sex was . . . an adjustment. And all of the touching that she and Yongsun did was not helping in the slightest. The two of them touched each other **a lot**. Until making the conscious decision to keep track of it, Byul hadn’t noticed how second nature it was for her and Yongsun to be close physically.

Instead of pulling the older girl closer, Moonbyul crossed her arms, squashing the urge down.

“You’re not old,” she deadpanned. Her efforts to not touch Yongsun proved futile as the older woman crawled over and got in her face.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“It like you mean it.”

“Byul-ah!”

“I’m **joking**. It was obviously a joke. You’re not old. You’re young and beautiful.”

It took time, but Yongsun eventually accepted her sincerity, uncrossing the athlete’s arms and snuggling up to her. Byul let her. There was no point in fighting it. If Yongsun was fine with doing this while in a relationship, who was she to say otherwise? For all her talk about them not seeing each other and blah blah blah, Yongsun was still dating Jinyoung.

“If video calls, phone calls, and visiting my place are out, that still leaves text messages and me coming to your apartment.” It threw Moonbyul for a loop how easily Yongsun went from the middle of a tantrum to calmly dissecting a hypothetical end of their friendship. She was a weirdo. A cute one, though.

“No. Those are out, too. Her presence will stick to the text messages and I’ll feel it through the phone. Same with you coming to my apartment. Her presence will stick to you then fly around as soon as you cross the threshold. It simply won’t work, Yong. Her being your roommate is unacceptable. I’m sorry. Life is harsh like this sometimes.”

“You said we were in this forever.”

“We were, but there’s no way I could have anticipated something as serious as this popping up. Deal-breaker.”

“Impossible. You could never give me up,” the graduate student cheekily and confidently stated.

What was truly impossible was Moonbyul hiding the shock on her face. She stared incredulously at a smirking Yongsun.

“Since when are you this cocky?”

“You didn’t deny it.”

“Since when are you this cocky?” She wasn’t going to dignify Yongsun’s comment with a response. Mainly because it seemed like what the older girl said was true.

“It’s not cockiness, it’s fact.”

“Well, you and your ‘fact’ can get out of my apartment.”

The resulting push and pull—literal push and pull. Byulyi tried to push Yongsun off of her, the young woman clung onto the athlete’s waist for dear life—extinguished Moonbyul’s quickly mounting stress as Yongsun’s squeals and pleas intensified.

“Fine,” the junior halted her actions, “you can stay. Only because you’re cute.”

Yongsun readjusted herself. Byul felt it **on** her chest when her friend’s cheeks lifted, no doubt from a proud smile forming on Yongsun’s face.

The athlete felt it **in** her chest, too. She was fucked.

*

**The Babies**

**From: Hee-yawn**

Remember: they’re going to make us fetch their breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of camp if we’re late.

Don’t be late! Lobby in 10 mins. _6:35 pm_

Once a captain, always a captain, it seemed.

It was the fifth full day of a month-long residency camp at Jincheon National Training Center for the Women’s National Basketball Team. The entire team moved into the Center for intensive training and final preparations prior to their Olympic send-off. In Moonbyul’s opinion, things were great so far—the facilities were top-notch, the players were gelling, and she was learning a great deal from the staff members, especially around nutrition. Physically, she had never felt better.

The only dark cloud hanging over her, Heeyeon, and Kisum was the rookie initiation they were being put through.

Running the rookies through the ringer wasn’t a foreign concept to her, it had just been a while since she’d been one of the rookies. Their beds and bags were filled with popcorn, they were charged with doing the entire team’s laundry after each training session, and they had to arrive early or stay late to help their seniors with any additional workouts. Harmless. Irritating, but harmless. And thankfully, from what she’d heard some of the veterans say, their team bonding activity tonight was the final stage of their induction to the team. Each university student—they still considered Heeyeon a university student despite her recent graduation—was given a final assignment that would be presented to the team and staff during their bowling night. Byul’s assignment was nothing too severe: singing a cute concept pop song and doing aegyo whenever anyone on the team demanded. Embarrassing, but it could have been worse.

What Heeyeon had texted her and Kisum about, though, was the one potential punishment that each of them dreaded the most and had, thus far, managed to avoid. If any one of them was late to an official team activity, she, Heeyeon, and Kisum would have to wait on all team members during meals for the rest of Camp.

Call time was 6:45 pm. They just had to get to the lobby by 6:45 pm and they were free!

Ready to head out, Moonbyul made sure she had her ID before grabbing her bookbag off the desk chair that she and her roommate shared. Just as her hand held on to the doorknob, the athlete’s phone began to ring. An instinctive smile formed.

“What?”

“Is this a bad time?”

She had eight minutes to make it to the lobby from the fourth floor. It was kind of a bad time, but the giddiness in Yongsun’s voice was the cutest thing she’d heard all day so, instead, she said, “No. What’s up?”

“I got the scholarships!”

Yongsun had been awarded a full scholarship for her first year, but the way it worked across all college and departments at SNU, students had to reapply for all scholarships each year. In addition to the College of Education scholarship, she applied for funding from the SNU Foundation. It seemed she would be set for her next and last year in the graduate program.

“Both fully funded?” Since taking the call, Moonbyul had left her room and walked to the elevators on her floor. If she entered, the call would cut off, so she instead slunk to the floor, listening attentively to Yongsun’s animated responses.

“Yeah! I can’t believe it! I only applied to both because I thought I wouldn’t get one of them.”

“Well, now you have both, so that’s some serious money that’ll be deposited to your bank account. You can be my sugar mommy.”

“Annoying! But yeah, it’ll be nice to not have to worry about money. This year wasn’t bad, but I was still building my account up. I’ll have a lot more flexibility now.”

The relief was evident in her best friend’s voice, and it took Moonbyul a moment to figure out why before she remembered that Yongsun did most things on her own. The older woman refused help from her parents in funding her education, not that they could help much anyway. From what Yongsun had shared over their almost-year of friendship, her family had just enough to get by. Financing an SNU education was not economically viable for them.

“I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t get emotional on me.”

“I’m being serious. I’m extremely proud of you. You know those scholarships aren’t easy to get.”

“Whatever. I got lucky.”

Byul let that statement go. Yongsun never gave herself credit for her hard work.

“Are you still going to do work-study?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Moonbyul chuckled at the bewilderment in the graduate student’s voice. “I need to make sure I’m making as much as I can so that I can save as much as I can.”

“Thinking of working at the same places?”

_6:42 pm_

She was going to be late, yet she continued asking questions so that she could hear Yongsun’s voice.

As the raven-haired woman prattled on about the specifics of her preliminary work-study plans, Byulyi sent a text to her friends.

**From: Byul**

**To: The Babies**

Going to be a few minutes late.

Sorry! Don’t hate me. _6:44 pm_

**Hee-yawn**

Are you fucking kidding me?!

The **last** day is when you pull this shit? _6:45 pm_

**Kisum**

Unnie, you’re joking, right?! _6:45 pm_

**Hee-yawn**

Now we have to get their food for almost ONE MONTH. _6:45 pm_

**Byul**

Sorry! Yong called.

We’re finishing up. Have been sitting by the elevator the whole time.

Heading down now. _6:46 pm_

**Hee-yawn**

You could’ve taken the call in the lobby?!

Like, hello?! Wtf is wrong with you? _6:47 pm_

**Kisum**

🤦‍ _6:47 pm_

I’m here.

Maybe they’ll have mercy on us if we kill our assignments? _6:48 pm_

**Hee-yawn**

Stfu Byul. _6:48 pm_

She immediately found her friends and joined them at their table, ignoring the cheers that erupted from the veterans when she stepped out of the elevator three minutes late.

Moonbyul was in the middle of trying to convince the other two that fetching meals for their seniors wasn’t **that** bad when her phone buzzed from a private text from Heeyeon:

**Hee-yawn**

If you don’t end up with her . . . istg.

I’m seriously going to fucking kill you.

This crush that you refuse to acknowledge is beyond stupid at this point. _6:50 pm_

Well . . . Heeyeon wasn’t wrong.


	22. The "-ed"

“Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech!”

“Look at unnie getting shy!” Yongsun almost didn’t hear Wheein over the shouting crowd.

“Look at her face. He ears are turning red,” the older girl grinned affectionately.

“She’s going to be so awkward,” Hyejin conspiratorially whispered to them, excitement buzzing.

All National Team members and staff were granted two free days before they left on Friday. Unbeknownst to Moonbyul, her mother had taken the athlete’s time away from home to plan a going away party and invited Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin, among other family and friends. To help Park Kyungah out, the three offered to keep Byulyi occupied for the day so that the food could be prepared and guests could arrive. The story they gave the blonde was simple: they were traveling to Bucheon to spend the day with her. While they’d take the train there, they insisted that Byul would have to pick them up from the train station and show them around her hometown. Yongsun was surprised by how easy it was to get Byulyi to agree. She put up no fight. _“Can’t wait,” _she had said, _“I’ve missed you three. There’s a lot to do here, so we’ll have fun.”_ Cute.

After the sightseeing and eating, Yongsun took note of the time before suggesting Moonbyul take them to her home so they could greet her mother, father, and sisters. Once she crossed the threshold, the soon-to-be-senior was bombarded with hoots and hollers from the mass of people congregated in her parents’ home. That’s how Yonsgun, Wheein, and Hyejin ended up in the corner of the Moons’ living room, giggling amongst themselves as they watched Byulyi struggle to find words for the speech that her family and friends were demanding.

“Byul-ah, say something to everyone that came here for you,” the athlete’s mother gently urged.

“Um . . . wow,” Moonbyul chuckled bashfully. “I didn’t expect this at all. Thank you everyone for coming to see me off. Each of you has supported me in some way, shape, or form, so this is as much an accomplishment for all of you as it is for me. Hoping our team can make you all proud.” The affectionate smiles at the athlete’s words evolved into entertained laughs as Byul scurried off to Yongsun in seek of refuge. It came as a surprise to the older girl, too, who was whisked away from Hyejin and Wheein, up a flight of stairs, and into a bedroom at the far end of the floor.

Yongsun took a few moments to do a quick scan of the room as Moonbyul promptly shut the door before faceplanting onto the bed at the center of the room. Trophies. Tons of trophies and medals adorned the desk and walls of the room; other than that, everything was simple and neat. The bed was made—up until the Byulyi ruined it—clothes were put away, and the periwinkle walls contributed to the space feeling a few degrees cooler than it actually was.

“Why are we up here?”

“Because I needed to get out of there. It was so embarrassing.”

“That still doesn’t explain why **I’m** up here.”

“You were the first one I saw, so I took you with me. You knew, didn’t you?” Byul asked. With her head still face down, the question came out muffled, but Yongsun got the gist of it.

“Obviously,” she walked over and sat precariously at the bed’s edge.

Turning to lay on her left side, Moonbyul looked up at Yongsun through her lashes as she pouted, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would we tell you? Your mom wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Now you’re scheming with my mom, huh?”

“Oh please. You’re a drama queen.”

“I’m not. She really likes you.”

“Happy to hear it. I like her, too. She’s very sweet.” It was true. Yongsun didn’t know why Park Kyungah was so kind towards her, but she decided to accept the affection and not stare a gift horse in the mouth.

“I don’t like it.”

“Now you see how I feel when my mom fawns over you. Good!”

“Whatever. Don’t sit at the edge of the bed like that. You’ll fall.” The switch in tone was surprising. Byul went from playful to commanding at the drop of a dime.

“I’m not going to fall,” Yongsun said defiantly.

“You are. Come here,” Moonbyul lightly tugged at her t-shirt.

“No.”

“Yongsun, come here,” she tried again, voice softer, but also . . . huskier? Yongsun wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

“Why do you sound like that?”

Moonbyul cleared her throat before speaking. “Like what?”

“No, no, no,” Yongsun climbed further onto the bed to tease her best friend, “don’t change your voice now. It was deeper before.”

“It’s because I’m tired!”

“So why is your face turning pink?” Yongsun was amused. The shoe was usually on the other foot so she refused to let this opportunity to tease and poke fun at Moonbyul pass.

“I’m tired!”

“Uh uh,” she got in Byul’s face, “since when does your face get pink from being tired? Huh?”

As Yongsun playfully poked the other girl all over, teasing her as she did so, Moonbyul simply laid on her back with a guilty smile. Something was definitely up.

“Tell me why.”

“It’s because you’re pretty.”

“I can’t stand you! You always have to make a joke.”

“Who said I’m joking? You’re pretty.”

“You always start talking about how pretty I am when you’re hiding something.”

“**Or**, I always start talking about how pretty you are because you’re always so pretty. That’s a possibility.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Yongsun rolled her eyes. “Anyway, we should go back downstairs now.”

“No. Let’s lay down here,” Byul whined as she wrapped an arm around Yongsun’s waist and pulled the older girl onto her.

“Byul-ah, stop. We can’t stay up here,” the graduate student slapped at the forearms that held her in place.

Truthfully, Yongsun was fine with staying up there with Byulyi. Time with the athlete was always enjoyable—more than enjoyable, actually—but there was a room full of people downstairs looking forward to wishing Byul well before her travels a couple days later. They had to go.

“No one will even notice we’re gone.”

“I can’t deal with you anymore. You stay, I’m leaving.”

A loud shriek escaped her lips as Moonbyul held onto her tighter, preventing her from standing up. Because it was Byul, though, Yongsun simply laughed as she continuously tried and failed to escape. Their struggle was cut short as a knock on the door echoed through the room. Moments later, Yesol warily entered.

“Sorry to interrupt, unnie, but omma has been looking for you.”

“Ah, okay. Thanks, Yesol. Tell her I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Yongsun watched as the youngest Moon gave a quick nod before scurrying off.

“I told you we needed to get back downstairs.”

“It’s your fault. You summoned her,” Byulyi said as she disentangled herself from Yongsun. She stood up and adjusted her clothes before reaching a hand out for Yongsun to take. “Come on, let’s go.”

Hand holding. For whatever reason, Yongsun never thought twice about it with Moonbyul. This time was no different. As soon as the hand was extended to her, the graduate student grabbed a hold of it, the only thing in her mind being curiosity over whether she’d ever find someone with whom things were as easygoing as they were with Moon Byulyi.

*

**From: Byul-ah**

Calling in 10 minutes. _2:47 pm_

The Korean Women’s National Team traveled to Japan two days after the send‑off Byul’s mother organized, exactly one week before the Olympic Opening Ceremony. The coaching staff wanted to use the time to settle in and get a couple scrimmages against local teams under their belt. After the first scrimmage, Yongsun received a sudden text from Moonbyul announcing that she’d be calling her in a few minutes. The call consisted mostly of the athlete talking through what transpired during the game. Yongsun simply listened, understanding that this was her friend’s method of processing everything. Since then, after each of their games, Byul would text her when she was to expect a call.

Accustomed to the routine by now, Yongsun found a comfortable, quiet space in her parents’ living room, turning on some music to pass the time. As promised, 10 minutes later, one of her favorite songs was interrupted by an incoming video call from Byulyi.

“Hi, ugly.”

“**That’s** how you’re greeting me after the game we had today? Please, go easy on me. I need support, not ridicule,” the blonde said semi-seriously as she got comfortable in an armchair unfamiliar to Yongsun.

“Where are you? The background looks different.” From what she could see, there were people buzzing around.

“The lobby of our dorm. Minyoung is in our room with someone,” Moonbyul said matter-of-factly.

“Huh?! Already? You all have only been there for a week. How is she already hooking up with someone?”

“Things work quickly here. I thought all the talk about Olympians messing around was exaggerated, but let me tell you, it is not.”

“Oh yeah?” Yongsun grew curious. “Who are you pairing up with?” It was cute how flustered Byul got at that question.

“Come on, stop. No one. I’m not with anyone.”

“Why not? It’s a once in a lifetime experience. I think you should give it a chance. When else are you going to be surrounded by hot, fit, world-class athletes? Have people approached you?”

The younger girl grew red, but despite her embarrassment, she answered honestly, “Yeah. A couple.”

“Really?! Which sports?” Yongsun found this entertaining.

“Rhythmic Gymnastics and Archery. One was Korean, actually.”

“You should’ve hooked up with the gymnast. I’d imagine the flexibility would make for a fun time.”

“Sure. If she comes back, I’ll hook up with her and record it for you. How about that?”

“Hot.”

“You sound like Hyejin,” Byulyi whined. “Please, never do that again.”

“What? Never say ‘hot’ again,” she drawled, trying to impersonate Hyejin’s signature husky tone.

“Oh my goodness, stop! You’re saying it exactly like her.”

It filled Yongsun with glee that she could make Moonbyul laugh as hard as she was laughing right now. After the game the team had today, she needed it.

They got thrashed by Australia. And yes, it was the Olympics. They wouldn’t be able to avoid strong teams as every team was strong in their own way, but being handed Australia as an opening match was brutal. Yongsun couldn’t imagine there being much good to take away from the experience, so her goal for this call was to distract Moonbyul with as much nonsense as she could. The athlete seemed to be a masochist though, because after catching her breath from laughing, she steered the conversation to her team’s game.

“Speaking of jokes, today’s game.”

“Yeah …”

“They handed our asses to us. Whoa,” she said suddenly “, just remembered I said the same thing to you when we played them during qualifiers. Didn’t think it could’ve gotten worse than that, but it got worse,” Byul laughed bitterly. “They had their top stars this time around.”

Yongsun hated moments like this. She always tried her best to support people, but there wasn’t much to say about today’s result. The game was as bad as Moonbyul made it seem.

“What did your coach say afterwards?”

“To forget this ever happened.” Both women laughed heartily at that.

“Yeah, that would probably be for the best.”

“I think we can compete against most of the other teams in our group. If we fonish Top 4 in our pool, we’ll go through to the knockout round. It’s doable.”

“What is the team’s goal? Like, what overall result would you all achieve and say, ‘yeah, the Olympics was successful for us’?”

“That’s a good question. Hmm … I guess the knockout stages. If we make it there and lose right away, I think that’ll be considered a success.”

“It’s so weird hearing you say that losing would be considered a success.”

“I know, right? This is a completely different beast, Yong. These teams are massive. And the game is **so** much faster. I only played around 15 minutes today, but wow, it’s an adjustment for sure. I get why coach hasn’t played us as much.”

“What did you just say?” Yongsun asked surprised.

“Oh my gosh, shut up,” Byulyi rolled her eyes.

“The same person who called her coach, and I quote, ‘an out-of-touch lame with favorites,’ for not starting her in all the scrimmages is suddenly changing her tune?”

It was all Yongsun heard during their calls after the two scrimmages the National Team had. How Byul “should get more playing time” and how “the coach isn’t using the younger players properly”.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was wrong. Whatever. It seems like he’s trying to ease the three of us into the international game. I should’ve trusted his plan for us.”

“Admit that you have a lot to learn and improve on still.”

“I basically just said that already.”

“I don’t want ‘basically just said,’ I want you to explicitly say it. You dragged that man’s name to hell and back.”

“Are you dating him or something? Why are you so protective over him? **I’m** your friend. You should be defending **me**.”

“Yes. I’m your friend, that’s why I’m being honest with you. If you want people that always tell you you’re right, that’s what your groupies are for. Go call one of them.”

Yongsun loved Moonbyul. The athlete was hands down one of her favorite people ever, but she also got a little full of herself sometimes. It wasn’t often, but when those moments did come about, the graduate student took it upon herself to knock Byul down a few notches. Now was one of those moments.

“Whatever, Yong.”

“Admit that you have a lot to learn and improve on still, and that you don’t know everything.”

Exasperatedly, Byul recited, “I still have a lot to learn and improve on. I don’t know everything.”

“Was that so hard,” she chirpily asked.

“You like kicking me when I’m down.”

“No. I don’t. You were acting childish about the whole playing time thing. No one was out to get you. In fact, they were trying to protect you, but you got a big head and started acting like those big shot athletes you claim you don’t want to be like. I get it, it’s the Olympics, you want to play. But also, **it’s the Olympics**. You’re going against elite athletes. Maybe take the opportunity to learn and become a better player.”

She didn’t answer right away, but after processing Yongsun’s words, Moonbyul seemed sincere when she did respond.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just don’t be an ass moving forward. Actually, that may be too difficult for you at times. From now on, take a moment to consider not being an ass. You’ll probably still end up being one.”

Yongsun laughed at her own joke, expecting Byulyi to join in. The intense stare she got in return was not what the older girl expected.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” It was making her uncomfortable.

“Nothing,” Moonbyul smiled softly. “I’m just lucky to have you.”

“Why are you being so soft?” Yongsun whined.

“I can’t show appreciation for my **friend**?”

“And why are you calling me your friend like that? Stop being weird, Byul-ah. Seriously.”

“How am I being weird?” She asked quizzically. “You’re my friend, so I called you my friend. What’s so wrong with that?”

“It’s the way you said it. You said it in a weird way.”

“Now you’re the one being weird.”

“I’m not,” Yongsun defended herself. There was something weird about how Byul said it. She’d bet her life on it. It was weird.

“Is that my Byulyi?!”

“Omma, seriousl–“

“Hi, Auntie!”

“Hi, Byulyi,” Yongsun’s mom beamed into the camera from over her daughter’s shoulder. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Trying to feel better after that big loss today, but Yongsun is only making things worse.”

“Yongsun,” Lee Soyoung slapped her youngest on the shoulder, “I told you to not stress her out! She has a lot on her plate already. Byul-ah, I apologize for my daughter being difficult.”

“It’s okay, Auntie. It’s not your fault she’s like that.”

Moonbyul was enjoying this a little too much for Yongsun’s taste. The way her mother coddled the athlete was disgusting. There were elements of Soyoung hamming it up just to bother Yongsun, but the graduate student knew that her mom meant a lot of what she said to and about Byulyi most of the time.

“Thank you for that, Byul-ah. How are you feeling after today’s game?”

Members of the Kim family usually watched Olympic events here and there, but this time around, it was a family event. Yongsun’s parents—mostly her mom—made her create a calendar of Women’s Basketball games so that they could all plan around watching Moonbyul play. As preposterous as she thought the idea to be at first, sitting around the television talking and laughing with her parents and Yonghee was healing for her. The South Korean loss today was disappointing, but quality time with the whole family was rare, so she was grateful. In a way, she had Byul to thank for that.

“Oh!” The athlete’s face contorted in surprise, “you watched the game, Auntie?”

“Of course I did. The whole family did. What did you call it, Yongsun? Watch party? We had a watch party. We’re going to do it for all of your games, so always remember you have us cheering for you!”

Her mother said it with so much enthusiasm and love, Yongsun wasn’t sure how Byul would respond. Eyes trained curiously on the screen, Yongsun read her friend’s expression—she was pensive. Realizing that her mom’s words seemed to have resonated deeply with the younger girl, Yongsun stepped in.

“Okay, omma, she has to get off the phone soon, stop talking her ear off,” she tried to joke.

“Ah, okay. Bye, Byul-ah! Make sure to eat your meals and get some sleep.”

“I’ll try, Auntie. Thank you for always supporting me,” she said solemnly. “I’ll make sure we win the next game for you.”

“Aigo, you are so charming! Such a sweet girl.” Yongsun was fairly certain she saw her mother blush.

“Okay, bye, mom!”

“You see how she treats her mother, Byulyi? Can you believe it?”

“I’ll teach her some manners, Auntie.”

Soyoung finally left and Yongsun couldn’t be more disturbed with Moonbyul’s last words.

“Can you not flirt with my mother, please?”

“Are you jealous?”

The older girl became a stammering, stuttering mess at that question. “Jea–, jealous?! You’re sick.”

“It’s okay if you are. Understandable, even.” Byul’s moment of sincerity was over. The cocky, smooth talker had returned.

“Please. You’d flirt with a plastic bag. Your sweet talk isn’t special.”

“Don’t say that,” Moonbyul said, voice low in tone, yet soft on the ears. It drew Yongsun in. “It’s special whenever I say things to you. My words to you are always sincere.”

It wasn’t only what was being said that affected her, it was also the intensity of Byul’s gaze and the depth of her voice that left Yongsun flustered and at a loss for words. Trying and failing to formulate a response, she sat there dumbly until a piercing laugh cut through the tension.

“You should’ve seen your face!” Moonbyul guffawed. “I wish I took a picture. You were so stunned.”

“Shut up,” Yongsun said with cheeks pink from embarrassment.

This was apparently the funniest thing Byulyi had experiences all day, because the athlete continued laughing uncontrollably as Yongsun sat there with her frustration mounting.

In time, the two ended their call, but a hint of bitterness remained. The graduate student took the rest of the day reflecting on why it was Byul’s joke bothered her as much as it did. Try as she might, Yongsun couldn’t figure out if it was because the athlete was, once again, having fun at her expense, or because part of her hoped the younger girl was being truthful in saying what she said.

*

Today was one of the first decisions about her romantic life that Yongsun was making on her own. No help from anyone else. She couldn’t talk to Chorong about it. Eric would probably tell her not to go through with it. Didn’t want to stress Wheein and Hyejin out with it. And Byul would most likely be too wrapped up in rejoicing over the news to offer any useful advice.

She was breaking up with Jinyoung. She had to.

If asked, Yongsun would happily admit that she knew nothing about relationships. It was possible, then, that she was being naïve and falling prey to the inaccurate portrayals of “ideal relationships” found in fairytales and romantic comedies when it came to what she was looking for in a partner: someone she could be herself with, someone that made every moment fun—even if doing nothing special, someone that understood and was patient with her, someone open to new experiences, someone that didn’t take themselves too seriously, someone that never stopped offering their help and support because they knew that she needed it even though she was allergic to asking for either.

Again, it was possible that this checklist of hers was unreasonable and unrealistic, but it’s what she currently believed she wanted and needed. After five months of dating officially, Yongsun had no idea if her relationship with Jinyoung offered most of what it was she thought she was looking for because things had barely improved since she shared some of her frustrations with Chorong some months ago. They barely saw each other and, at this point, were together in name only. She found him attractive and kind, but attractive and kind did not a sustainable relationship make.

Taking a deep breath, Yongsun steadied herself for Jinyoung’s arrival—he’d texted her that he was entering the café soon. None of her thoughts were written down or memorized. She was certain this was going to be disastrous.

The bell above the café door chimed for the umpteenth time and Jinyoung walked in. He looked good, he always did, and Yongsun’s heart broke the tiniest bit when he looked around, spotted her, then sported the warmest smile. She felt shitty.

“Hey, babe,” Jinyoung leaned down to kiss her chastely. He’d taken recently to calling her that pet name.

“Hi. How are you,” she asked as he settled into the seat across from her.

“I’m better now that I’m here with you. How are you?” If the ground could swallow her up right now, that would be perfect.

“I’m fine. Honestly, a little nervous.”

“That doesn’t sound great.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled.

“Before we get into what it is you wanted to discuss, I’m going to order. What would you like?”

“I’m okay. Thank you for asking.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

She needed to get it together. Quickly.

Breaking up was the right thing to do. Their schedules were not syncing up and, beyond not seeing each other, Yongsun felt that she and Jinyoung were better suited as friends. He was kind and caring and considerate, but there was no spark—their relationship had plateaued. Despite all of this being objectively true, her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought of ending things. Maybe she needed to mind her business from now on and avoid entering relationships altogether. This was too stressful.

“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” Jinyoung asked as he found his seat with an iced coffee in hand. It was now or never. There was no point in dragging this out.

“Us,” Yongsun answered truthfully. She couldn’t see Jinyoung’s expression because her gaze was set on the table, but his voice seemed to convey surprise at her response.

“What about us?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Wanted to hear your thoughts, I guess.”

“Uh . . . my thoughts are I like you and, yeah, I wish we saw each other more, but there isn’t much we can do about that. We’re trying our best. I mean . . . what are your thoughts?”

She knew her face was turning red; she could feel it. Her heart started beating faster and her throat felt like it was closing up.

“I don’t know,” she replied noncommittally.

Jinyoung put his drink down and examined her for a bit before speaking. “I’ll go get you some water.”

He knew. Yongsun knew that he knew what she wanted to say. And he was still thoughtful enough to get her water and make sure she was okay. She didn’t exactly expect him to tell her to choke, but she didn’t expect this level of kindness still.

“Here you go,” Jinyoung placed a full glass of water in front of her. Yongsun stared at it for a few moments before taking a small sip.

A few more moments of silence passed between the two before Jinyoung leaned forward and took both of her hands in his atop the table.

“I would hope that you’d feel comfortable enough with me to be honest, Yongsun. I may not like what you have to say, but I’m not going to think any less of you for it.”

At that, she looked up and held his gaze. The gentle squeeze of her hands and the small nod that he gave provided her with the confidence she needed to say what she needed.

“I think we should break up,” she squeaked out.

More silence. An uncomfortable one this time.

“Can we talk through this, or is the decision already made?”

“I just don’t think it’s working.”

“Is there something I could be doing better? I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but if it’s something I’m doing wrong, I’d fix it. I really would.” Yongsun heard the slight desperation in his voice. He didn’t want them to be over. This was the worst.

“You’ve been perfect, you really have, Jinyoung. I can’t thank you enough for your patience with me at every step of the way. Even before we started seeing each other, you were patient when you didn’t have to be. It’s just that . . . we don’t see each other and that’s not something we can easily fix. I also don’t think it’s something we should want to fix. You’re working hard to make a name for yourself as a composer and an actor and scaling back right now shouldn’t be something on your mind. I wouldn’t want you to feel that you’d have to choose between me and your career, but that’s where it feels like things would go if we stay together.”

“It wouldn’t have to be like that.”

“It would. It’s already challenging finding time to see each other and the time we already have isn’t enough for me. Maybe it’s me being selfish, but I want to be around my partner as often as I can without feeling like a burden. If we spent more time together, I’d feel like I was keeping you from your work and that wouldn’t be ideal either. But it’s not all on you. I’m getting busier, too. It’s just hard all around.”

“You’ve thought this all out, haven’t you,” he tried to joke. Bless his heart.

“I care about you and want the best for you. This relationship doesn’t feel like it’s the best for you or for me. Not right now, at least.”

“Well. This isn’t fun,” Jinyoung sighed heavily.

“I’m really sorry.”

“I know. I feel like a shitty boyfrie– uh, ex-boyfriend, knowing that you’ve probably been stressing over this on your own for who knows how long.”

“It couldn’t be helped. You know I stress over everything on my own for who knows how long. I’m hard-headed.”

“Didn’t want to be the one to say it,” he teased.

“Is it selfish of me to ask that we stay friends?”

“It is, yeah.”

Yongsun sat speechless. It was a fair response from him. Not ideal, but fair.

“Your face,” he laughed out loud. “I’d love to stay friends. If you hadn’t brought it up, I would have.”

“Oh my goodness! My heart stopped. Don’t play like that,” she smacked one of his hands resting on the table.

“Go easy on me. I just got broken up with.”

“What a bitch. Who would break up with you?”

“No, she was great.” His small smile urged Yongsun to head to his side of the table and hug him. Hopefully, she thought, all her gratitude and appreciation could be felt.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jinyoung patted her on the back. “I’ll drop you home and we can discuss who gets which friends in the divorce.”

She wasn’t sure what she did to deserve being treated this well, but she was sure that never again did she want to go through something as tense and stressful as a breakup. She’d imagine that finding the person she’d marry one day would require her to go through several more relationships, all of which would come with breakups and varying degrees of heartbreak. Being single forever was looking more and more like the way to go.

*

** _Wheein changed the name of the group chat from “Faves _ ** ** _😍_ ** ** _” to “Byulyi & Her Fan Club”_ **

**Hyejinie**

You know Byul-unnie’s going to see this, right? _3:01 pm_

**Wheeinie**

I can’t wait for her reaction. _3:02 pm_

**Yongsun**

I didn’t sign up for any fan club 🤔 _3:04 pm_

**Hyejinie**

You’re the president of the fan club, unnie. _3:04 pm_

**Yongsun**

Since when?! _3:05 pm_

**Wheeinie**

Since you’re always the one making sure we’re

watching her Olympic games. _3:05 pm_

**Yongsun**

It’s not **her** Olympic games, it’s **your** **nation’s** Olympic games. _3:06 pm_

**Hyejinie**

Unnie, here is the message from two days ago that you sent to me and Wheein separately. Word for word:

_“Are you watching Byul’s game? You better be watching and cheering for her!”_

**Yongsun**

Thank you, Sherlock Holmes. _3:10 pm_

**Wheeinie**

It’s okay, unnie. Nothing to be ashamed of. _3:11 pm_

**Hyejinie**

Byul-unnie’s on fire today! She just hit another shot.

What got into her? _3:13 pm_

You all, she’s trending on Twitter!

This is unreal. _3:16 pm_

**Yongsun**

😳

What does it say? _3:17 pm_

**Hyejinie**

Well, not her name, but “blonde Korean” 😂

It’s mostly everyone asking who the “blonde Korean” is. _3:20 pm_

**Wheeinie**

Still cool! I’ll take a screenshot. _3:21 pm_

**Yongsun**

I’m going to check, too. _3:21 pm_

Ew. It’s mostly people thirsting over her.

They’re not even talking about her athletic ability 🙄 _3:27 pm_

**Hyejinie**

Let people have nice things, unnie. _3:28 pm_

**Wheeinie**

Good thing I got that picture.

She’s not trending anymore 😢 _3:31 pm_

**Yongsun**

All good things must come to an end. _3:32 pm_

**Hyejinie**

You’re just happy that people aren’t “thirsting”

over her as much anymore. _3:33 pm_

**Yongsun**

😇 _3:33 pm_

*

Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin exchanged more messages throughout the game. It was, without question, Byul’s best game thus far. After losing handily in their first game against Australia, the Korean Women’s National Team bounced back with an impressive victory against Puerto Rico. They were now in the midst of a competitive game against Canada, holding on to a slim lead over the North American team. The standout, though, was Moonbyul.

As Hyejin asked earlier, Yongsun wasn’t sure what had led to such an impressive performance, but she was proud of her best friend for showcasing her abilities on such a grand stage. With the comments she read on Twitter etched in her mind, though, Yongsun was unable to fully focus on the rest of the game. The comments left a bad taste in her mouth—they mostly consisted of people objectifying Byul. She was much more than that.

Yongsun’s parents and sister spoke amongst themselves as the graduate student focused solely on the television screen until the game ended. Once it did, her cell phone buzzed next to her, flashing a notification for a text message from Hyejin:

**Hyejinie to “Byulyi & Her Fan Club”**

Byul-unnie’s Instagram is even funnier! _3:45 pm_

Mistake number one was believing that there would be anything even remotely humorous on Moonbyul’s page. All Yongsun found were more thirst comments underneath the athlete’s photos. There weren’t **that** many, but there were enough to annoy her. These people had no shame it seemed, perfectly comfortable asking invasive questions out in the open like they did.

_Are you single?_

_Do you like girls?_

_Your eyes shine like the stars at night._

_Please fuck me._

It was gross.

**Yongsun to “Byulyi & Her Fan Club”**

Hyejin, please. It’s disgusting. _3:58 pm_

**Wheeinie**

What’s wrong with you, unnie?

It’s funny! Lighten up. _4:00 pm_

Try as she might, Yongsun couldn’t find the humor in any of these comments. They weren’t drastically different from the usual comments SNU students left, but they annoyed her much more.

A few hours later, it hit her.

In fairness, it was a throwaway comment from Yonghee that made things click.

_Dinner had just ended. Yongsun and Yonghee helped to clean the kitchen up before both headed to their bedrooms. Just as Yongsun turned to enter her room, Yonghee called her attention back to the hallway._

_“Is Byulyi single?”_

_“Why are you asking? You going to date her?”_

_“If I was going to date her, I’d already be dating her. She’s hot. In a cute way. But yeah, a friend of a friend asked. They found out she’s friends with my sister—you—and asked a friend of mine to find out for them if she was available.”_

_“Wait, huh?”_

_“You’re smart, Yongsun. Act like it. Your friend’s hot. Someone I kind of know wants to try getting closer to her. Is she single or not?”_

_Yongsun didn’t need this right now. The day had been full of overzealous strangers clamoring after her best friend and she didn’t like it. Now her sister was interrogating her about Byul’s love life to help one of those overzealous strangers get closer to her best friend. No. She needed her bed, not this nonsense._

_“Ew.”_

_“Okay,” Yonghee rolled her eyes and turned to head to her own room. “Don’t have the time for you being this difficult. I’ll just tell her she’s not single.”_

_Finally in the comfort of her own room, Yongsun played the conversation she had just had with Yonghee back in her head, three words standing out._

_“Your friend’s hot.”_

_A few weeks ago, Yongsun would have heard those words and thought nothing of it. Moonbyul was hot. That was objectively true. The athlete was good looking and charming. Both things that contributed to her being “hot” and “attractive”._

_It wasn’t a few weeks ago, though. It was now, and now, the idea of Byulyi being “hot” formed butterflies in her stomach and made her heart race faster, even if only slightly. The idea of Byulyi being “hot” made her protective of the younger girl. Yongsun didn’t necessarily want to keep that “hotness” to herself, but she also didn’t much like the idea of others having access to Byul either._

Yeah. Yongsun could always admit that Byul was attractive. That was never an issue. But there was a difference between acknowledging that the blonde was attractive and being attracted to her. The “-ed”. Those two letters made a world of difference, and it was possible that they were making a huge difference now, because Yongsun started to consider that she might be attracted Moonbyul. More accurately, Yongsun was attracted to Moonbyul and wasn’t exactly sure what to do with this revelation.

**From: Byul-ah**

So many interviews after today’s game!

Anyway, calling my favorite girl in 5 😊 _7:15 pm_

Not one break. Yongsun couldn’t catch not one damn break today.


	23. Advice

“You’re not attracted to Moonbyul,” Eric stated matter-of-factly.

A flicker of annoyance ran through her at how quickly he dismissed what had just been shared with him. Yes, she didn’t have much experience with matters of attraction, but Yongsun also felt that she had shown herself to be in enough control of her feelings that others would trust her when she spoke about them.

“You’re being condescending.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “it’s just … nothing you’ve said thus far confirms to me that you see her as anything other than a friend.”

“I literally told you I had butterflies in my stomach when I thought of her. What more do you want me to say? That I want to sleep with her?”

“Yes, actually. That would be more convincing than what you **actually** said, which was, ‘I was thinking that I might be attracted to Byulyi.’ That’s not as conclusive as you’re making it out to be.”

He wasn’t wrong.

After coming to her “realization”, Yongsun sat through a quick video call with Moonbyul. Most of their conversation revolved around the sudden spike in the athlete’s popularity—the younger girl found it hilarious and was enjoying it a little too much for Yongsun’s liking. She had seen the messages in their group chat with Wheein and Hyejin which urged her to check social media sites to brush up on the extent of the hoopla around her, the “Blonde Korean”.

_“Oh my goodness! Did you see some of these messages, Yong? This is so funny.”_

_“Don’t see much funny about it, honestly.” Yongsun felt she was missing something. No part of these strangers being desperate and throwing themselves at Moonbyul was funny to her._

_“Oh come on. Lighten up. It’s a good thing we won today, huh? Wouldn’t want to let my new fans down,” Moonbyul replied cockily._

_“Can we talk about the game, please, and not this nonsense.”_

_“Sure. It felt good today. Everything was clicki–, whoa! This girl is really pretty. Hold on. I’m going to send you the link to her page. She left a comment under one of my pictures so I checked her profile and … wow. She’s really pretty.”_

Yongsun managed to steer their conversation towards **basketball** for a few minutes before Byul got distracted again by how “good-looking” everyone commenting about her was. The older girl ended the call with the athlete after about 15 minutes.

Still in a tizzy over her newfound “feelings” for Moonbyul, and with that video call not having helped at all, Yongsun called Eric. She hadn’t even given him a chance to say “hello” before she launched into recounting the day’s events and the momentous conclusion she’d come to.

He wasn’t having any of it.

“Yongsun, taking into account everything you’ve shared, I’d recommend you, first of all, take a breath. You’re not into her.”

“Then you clearly weren’t listening to everything I said.”

“I was. What I heard was that since breaking up with your boyfriend four days ago, all you’ve heard since then is talk about how ‘hot’ Moonbyul is. It makes sense to me why you’d come to the conclusion that you‘re attracted to her or whatever, but more than anything, it seems like you’re stressed out.”

“What would I be stressed out about? I’m not in a relationship anymore.”

“And from what you shared, there are doubts about if you’ll ever get into another relationship, which, come on, Yongsun. I know you’re dramatic at times, but this is a bit much. Of course you’ll find someone else.”

She had to laugh. Hearing Eric summarize her thoughts pointed out to her how over-the-top she could be at times.

“More than anything, it sounds like there’s a lot your friendship with Moonbyul has that your romantic relationship with Jinyoung didn’t, so you’re comparing them and … you can’t compare the two, Yongsun. You just can’t. She’s your friend, he was your partner. You can’t compare.”

“Okay, but I could still be attracted to her. How are you so sure that I’m not?”

“For starters, there’s no ambiguity when you’re attracted to someone. You’ll know. Immediately. Second, many people go through this with their close friends. It’s very common—confusing friendship with more. It happened to me with you.”

“Excuse me?” He said that a little too casually.

“What? I did. A bunch of people kept making jokes about how cute of a couple we’d make and one day I sat and thought, ‘If everyone’s saying it, it must be true.’ I tried to force something that wasn’t there. Repeating that: I tried to force something** that wasn’t there**. Before you start thinking I like you like that, I **do not**.”

“I heard you the first time, calm down. You don’t find me attractive, I get it,” she rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t say that. You’re extremely attractive, but I see you as only a friend. It sounds like there are bits of that happening with you and Moonbyul right now. You two are very close and she’s attractive, so you’re assuming that it means you need to like her as more and … you don’t. There’s no checklist for this stuff, Yongsun. When you meet someone you’re attracted to, you’ll know. Don’t stress yourself out about it.”

Credit to Eric, he let the silence between them hang, aware that she needed time to process everything. And from her side, there did seem to be some sense to what he was saying. It was possible she was simply protective over her best friend while projecting what she felt she wanted and needed from a relationship onto the relationship she and Moonbyul had built thus far.

“You think you know everything, huh?” She teased.

“Not at all,” he chuckled, “just trying to help out my wonderful friend that overthinks everything and only calls me during crises.”

Damn.

“I love you, Eric,” Yongsun replied in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“You **know** that doesn’t work on me.”

“Fine,” she pouted even though he couldn’t see it. “It’s still true, though. Love you lots. And I’m very grateful for you always talking me down when I’m being unreasonable or dramatic.”

“Or when you’re being unreasonable **and** dramatic.”

“Ignoring that. But yes, I can and will be better at checking-in with you more frequently. I’m sorry,” the graduate student finished in a small voice.

Before Moonbyul, Wheein, Hyejin, or Chorong, Eric was Yongsun’s friend. She didn’t want to be one of those people that casted aside her old friends the moment new friendships were forged. He deserved much more than that.

“It’s okay. I understand. Graduate school is challenging and busy. You have year one under your belt, though, so now that **you** know what to expect, **I’m** expecting better communication from one of my favorite girls.”

The call was helpful. Eric’s logic made sense. It was very possible that she was projecting many of her relationship ideals onto Byulyi, which was unfair to the younger girl. An understatement.

That being said, it didn’t go unnoticed by her how different it felt when Eric called her “one of his favorite girls” compared to when Byul said almost the exact same thing only 45 minutes ago. It felt **very** different.

Yongsun had more thinking to do.

*

“I think this is the first time I’m completely okay with a loss. They were the better team—really and truly—but look at how well we played them. They had to earn it. One of their players even said that to me after the game.”

“Mmm,” Yongsun distractedly responded.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You seem out of it. I said that one of the Spanish players told me they really had to work hard against us and all you said was, ‘mmm’. Normally you’d say something along the lines of, ‘Since when do you understand Spanish?’ and then I’d say, ‘She said it in English,’ and then you’d say, ‘Oh, so you think you’re big and bad because you speak and understand English?’ then I’d laugh and probably say, ‘Oh my gosh, there’s no winning with you.’”

“You seem to have everything under control. Don’t really need me to say anything.”

“Is something wrong, Yong?”

The amount of concern in Moonbyul’s voice was wrecking her. Their call today was only two days after their previous one, two days after Yongsun came to the conclusion that she possibly liked Byulyi as more than a friend, two days after Eric effectively squashed that … except not really. Since then, all Yongsun did was think. Did she like Moonbyul? Or was she trying to avoid future heartache by forcing romance into her most stable relationship thus far? She had zero idea what she was doing.

Byul doing what she just did—speaking with genuine concern for Yongsun’s well-being—or saying and doing other things that made Yongsun feel like the most important woman in the world wasn’t helping at all.

“I broke up with Jinyoung six days ago.” It wasn’t what was bothering her, but she hadn’t yet shared the news with her best friend, so Yongsun figured she might as well do it now.

“Seriously? Wow. How are you holding up?”

“That’s … not at all how I was expecting you to react. Thought you’d be jumping for joy.”

“Oh, I will. Later. But it’s getting you down so, obviously, I’ll listen to you cry over him or whatever. Y’know, friendship … or whatever.”

Just like that, by being herself, Moonbyul had improved Yongsun’s mood. The older girl couldn’t help but grin at how clear it was that Byul would prefer to discuss anything but Jinyoung right now, but she offered to do so anyway because it’s what she thought Yongsun wanted, because it’s what she thought Yongsun **needed**.

“I’m not going to cry over him,” she said with a soft smile on her face, still not over how good of a person Moonbyul was.

“Good. What made you **finally** decide to break up with him?”

“It was the right time. Things weren’t going anywhere. He was surprised by it, though, so I felt like shit.”

“Don’t. And I’m not even saying that because I wasn’t a fan of his. Relationships are supposed to work for both people. If you aren’t feeling it and nothing is getting better, it’s best to end it before things turn ugly.”

“That was actually good advice.” Yongsun didn’t even try to hide her shock.

“Of course it was. I’m great at relationships. Any ex of mine would tell you so.”

“Is that why you haven’t been in a real relationship in ages?”

Byul’s guffawed loud enough that her roommate scolded her for the noise.

“First of all, Haena counts. We were basically girlfriends.”

“Basically doesn’t count.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does. If she and I had more time, we’d have had the labels.”

“Whatever,” Yongsun grumpily conceded.

“But yeah, as I was saying, one, Haena counts, and two, if someone comes along that warrants being in a relationship with, I’m open to it.”

“Is there anyone you have your eye on? Someone that you’re thinking of dating?”

Yongsun honestly wasn’t fishing for anything. Given the natural progression of their conversation, and taking into account everything that Byulyi had shared, it made sense to ask the question that she did. As the athlete took time to ponder her response—much more time than Yongsun felt such a straightforward question required—anticipation for the reply grew steadily. The more time she waited, Yongsun grew uncertain about which answer she wanted to hear.

“Are you asking if I like someone or if there’s someone I want to date? Those can be two very different things,” Byul asked for clarification.

“Both, I guess.”

“Oh.” The younger girl took more time to think, twisting her lips to a side as she did so. “No. There’s no one,” she softly answered. “So if you know of anyone, send them my way,” Byul forced a laugh.

She didn’t like anyone. Oh.

As Yongsun’s lips parted, a challenge on the tip of her tongue, Moonbyul cut her off.

“I almost asked you the same questions then I remembered you just got out of a relationship.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t like or want to date someone else just because I was recently in a relationship?”

“Can you fix your face, please? You’re getting worked up for no reason. ‘Recently in a relationship’ is an understatement. The two of you broke up sx days ago, Yongsun. Be reasonable.”

“I **am** being reasonable. Don’t you think you’re being overbearing by assuming that everyone exits a relationship in the same condition? If I think I like someone, I’d know best, wouldn’t I?”

“Can we not argue, please? You know I don’t like it when we fight.”

“Fine,” she replied tersely.

Yongsun hated fighting with Moonbyul, too, but no matter how well-meaning both had been, this was the second person in as many days telling her about her feelings and it grated on her nerves, probably because she yearned to feel confident in this part of her life, yet still had no idea what was going on.

“All I’m saying is, regardless of if the breakup was fine, it was still a breakup. Something didn’t work, and **from my experience**, catching feelings for someone right out of a relationship is a mess—you end up either trying to recreate all the good things about the relationship that just ended, or you use that person as a guinea pig for trying to fix all the things that didn’t work. Either way, not great. Unfair to you and to that person. I’d highly recommend taking your time and enjoying the single life.”

Life was funny like this at times. Absolutely hilarious.

“Then again, that’s **if** you like someone. You never said you did, so I just rambled on for no reason,” Byul sheepishly scratched her neck. “But yeah, if you do think there’s someone you like, put a pin in it. They’re not going anywhere. Just have fun. . . . Was that helpful at all? You’re not saying anything so I’m getting self-conscious.”

“It was a lot to process.”

“Well, I’m always here for you. Never forget that.”

That was part of the problem.

*

“Unnie, turn on the air conditioning, please. It’s hot.”

“Maybe it’s because your drinking **stew **in the middle of summer?”

“No judgment, please. You’re better than that. And it’s August, that’s not exactly the middle of summer.”

Shaking her head, Yongsun stood from her seat on the couch to adjust the thermostat on the far end of the wall. Moments later, the central air system whirred to life. Despite the initial resistance to Hyejin’s request, Yongsun found herself grateful as she stood under the vent with a steady stream of cool, crisp air washing over her.

“Look at you enjoying it. I’m always right. I don’t know why you all are so reluctant to admit it.” At no point did she look up from her stew.

“We’re reluctant to admit what?” Wheein asked, finally returning from the bathroom.

“Did you fall into the toilet?” Yongsun asked as she returned to her spot on the couch.

“What would you do if I said yes?”

“Laugh.”

“Rude,” Wheein playfully stuck her tongue out before getting comfortable next to Yongsun. “Hyejin, what were you saying about us being reluctant to admit something?”

“I was telling unnie that I’m always right and that no one ever wants to admit it.”

“Ah, so you were talking nonsense. Got it.”

“Jung Wheein,” Hyejin turned to glare at her in warning. The two on the couch found this comical, the exact opposite of what the youngest intended, but she did nothing but turn back around to resume with her stew.

It wasn’t that Wheein and Hyejin grew bored of Jeonju, it was more that they missed Seoul. More accurately, seldom during the school year were there opportunities to freely roam the city and spend their days doing whatever they pleased. They also missed Yongsun a ton. As such, the two decided to spend a week at their home away from home, checking first with Yongsun about whether they could stay with her. The older girl agreed immediately. Aside from working at the Academic Support Center for Athletes (ASCA)—her work with the university-athletes assigned to her in the spring had impressed the Center’s director so much that he extended an offer for her to stay on during the summer—Yongsun wasn’t doing much. Most of her time was spent at her parents’ home, watching Byulyi’s games with her family. When Wheein and Hyejin reached out about staying with her, she jumped at the chance to hang out with people her age—Yonghee didn’t count.

She mentioned it to Moonbyul during their call a couple days ago and, in addition to offering advice on her love life, the younger girl also offered her apartment. It made sense to everyone involved: Heeyeon and Byul were away, their apartment was empty, and the athlete’s bed could easily accommodate Wheein and Hyejin. That was the plan that Yongsun and the two younger girls followed. They arrived from Jeonju yesterday and would stay a full seven days before leaving the following Monday. For now, though, the three were gathered in Moonbyul and Heeyeon’s living room, getting ready for the final preliminary round game: Korea vs. Ghana.

Both teams had identical records—two wins and two losses. A win today guaranteed finishing third in the group. Each team was already moving on to the next round as the top four of each group qualified for the quarterfinals, but finishing fourth meant playing the tournament-favorite USA, and neither team wanted that.

“Unnie, is Chorong bringing a television when she moves in?”

“Yeah. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss Misuk’s until it was gone. The one in my room is tiny.”

“Hers was **so** big,” Wheein wistfully remembered.

“**Love** big things,” Hyejin suggestively commented.

“Why are you like this, Hyejin?”

“What? Do you not like big things, Wheein?”

“No comment. And what big things have you had lately? Hmm? I don’t recall any.”

“Low blow. Yes, I have been in a slump, but my time will soon come!”

“The first step is believing.”

“Speaking of no longer having big things, Yongsun-unnie, how are you dealing with the breakup?”

“What does my breakup have to do with big things, or with no longer having big things?”

Hyejin’s mind oftentimes confused her. The way Wheein giggled next to her, though, Yongsun felt like maybe she was missing the obvious connection.

“Y’know. Big things. Jinyoung,” the tanned beauty mischievously wagged her eyebrows.

“Seriously, Hyejin! I’m not discussing that.”

“Come on, unnie! Don’t be like that. There’s nothing wrong with talking about this stuff, it’s natural, and you’re with some of your best friends.”

“Did the two of you do stuff together?” Wheein asked as she lifted her legs and rested them on Yongsun’s lap, laying her head on the arm of the couch.

“I don’t know,” she evasively answered, picking up the remote to find the channel that the game would be on.

“You don’t know if you did stuff with your ex-boyfriend?” Hyejin challenged.

“We did stuff, yes. We went out to eat and went to exhibits.”

It hadn’t dawned on her before that she never discussed sex or anything like that. Only recently had she started talking about attraction and romance. It was a bit embarrassing how late she was to dealing with this part of her personal development.

“You don’t have to be self-conscious about that stuff with us, unnie,” Wheein used her legs to nudge Yongsun’s knees. “Other than kissing and a little touching here and there, I didn’t start doing things with people until last year. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Wheein’s right, unnie. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re friends. Who else are you supposed to talk about this stuff with, right?”

This was true.

“We did some things, nothing too wild. We never went all the way, though. Just kissing and touching. I was never ready for more and he was understanding about that.”

“That’s sweet. He always struck me as a gentleman,” Wheein observed.

“He is.”

“Speaking of gentlemen, look at our gentlewoman on the screen! Byul-unnie’s such a hottie.”

“What’s with you and starting every sentence of yours with ‘speaking of’?” Wheein asked.

“I didn’t even notice that!” Yongsun giggled.

Hyejin ignored them and focused instead on the game, which was starting. In fact, all three did.

Silence engulfed the room as Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin paid close attention to the match’s opening moments. From the opening tip, the competition was stiff. The physicality and intensity was unlike any of the previous four games—it was clear that moving on to the next stage of competition and avoiding the USA meant a lot to both sides.

Nerve-racking didn’t even begin to describe how Yongsun felt. Flips, dips, and turns. That’s all her stomach was doing. Her entire body vibrated, on edge about how this game would turn out. The graduate student had even tried doing some research on the Ghanaian team, but her efforts proved mostly fruitless—they lost to Australia and Spain, and defeated Puerto Rico and Canada. Exactly like the Korean team. If anything, Yongsun gleaned that the African team played a fast game, similar to the team from Spain, and from what she remembered, Korea struggled with that. The Coach for the team had experience. She trusted that he’d make the necessary adjustments and prepare the team properl–

“Hello! Earth to Yongsun-unnie,” Wheein waved a hand in front of the older girl’s face.

“Huh?”

“You zoned out. Hyejin and I were celebrating the fact that Byul-unnie’s coming into the game.”

“Oh,” she responded distractedly. Her musings had completely overwhelmed her.

“Thought the president of the fan club would be more excited about it.”

“She’s nervous, Wheein. Look at her wringing her hands. Poor thing. It’ll be okay, unnie,” Hyejin laughed.

And it was. Watching these games with her family was enjoyable, but watching with Wheein and Hyejin was fun! Their commentary was unmatched and usually had very little to do with the actual game.

_“She’s pretty! Do you two think Byul-unnie would introduce me to her?”_

_“She plays for the other team, Wheein.”_

_“Other team as in . . . straight?”_

_“Other team as in Ghana.”_

_“Oh. Well my answer was going to be the same regardless—I still have a chance.”_

_“How would you even meet her? You’re not in Japan.”_

_“I support you in everything, Hyejin, and this is how you repay me. All I’m asking for is a little considera–”_

_“Anyway, I sent Byul-unnie a message telling her you like #3 on Ghana and I found the girl’s Instagram. Here,” Hyejin rolled her eyes before passing off her cell phone to Wheein._

_“Unnie, don’t I always say that Hyejin’s the best,” Wheein changed her tone. “I always say it to anyone that will listen. Ahn Hyejin’s truly the best.”_

Their shenanigans helped tremendously in easing her stress over the outcome of the game. They even somehow managed to make her laugh during one of the most heart-stopping moments of the evening.

_Tied game: 56-56. Third quarter, 9:25 left._

_The whole game was entertaining, but what seemed to grab the attention of most was the battle of the point guards. Moonbyul hadn’t started the game, but the impact she made upon entering was hard to overlook. The blonde had since become a cornerstone of the Koran team’s game plan, especially on defense. The Ghanaian point guard was dynamic—she could defend, she could score, she could pass. Overall, a handful. And although Byul hadn’t been able to completely shut her down, her defensive efforts had significantly clamped down on the Ghanaian athlete’s efficiency and effectiveness. At no point had Yongsun seen Byulyi as locked in on a defensive assignment as today. Maybe too locked in._

_The Ghanaian ran here and there, zigged and zagged, looking to elude Moonbyul, who was always right on her heel. For a split second, #8 got the best of the blonde and found herself open long enough the get the ball at the top of the key. Immediately after the basketball touched her fingers, Byul recovered and tightly covered the girl’s back, leaving her little if any space to turn around. Whether it was on purpose, or simply a matter of circumstance, the Ghanaian swiveled her body looking to face the basket. In doing so, her left elbow caught Moonbyul square in the eye. As her friend fell to the floor in a heap, Yongsun’s breath stopped._

_This was the part of watching these games that Yongsun hated the most. Whatever happened on the court, however Byul’s games turned out, Yongsun had no control. She felt helpless and useless. In this moment, it filled her with fury that, not only was she in a different country, even if she was in Saitama Super Arena, she’d still be powerless and unable to effect any change. Annoying._

_Flanked by training staff, Moonbyul walked to the back, for treatment, no doubt. About 10 took-forever minutes later, she was back on the bench sporting a giant black and blue bruise under her left eye. For what it was, all seemed to be fine because the Coach put her back in the game. Try as she might, though, Yongsun couldn’t relax her tense posture, and she wondered if this was normal. Was her concern for Byulyi strictly platonic, or was there more credence to the conclusion she came to four days ago? Yongsun still couldn’t tell._

_“You know,” Hyejin started seriously, “I didn’t expect it, but Byul-unnie looks even hotter with that bruise.”_

_“Okay, thank you! Because I was thinking it, but didn’t want to be the one to say it,” Wheein added, relief clear in her voice._

_“So hot! You **know** more girls are going to throw themselves at her offering to ‘help’.”_

_“It’s kind of being wasted on her. She doesn’t hook up with anyone!” _

_“Throwing away perfectly good opportunities to have some fun,” a crestfallen Hyejin shook her head, “Shame.”_

_Yongsun threw her head back and laughed harder than she’d laughed all day, which was a lot because she was hanging out with Wheein and Hyejin. Their absurd comments were so . . . perfectly them. Yongsun found them refreshing._

“Well,” Wheein started, “that was fun.”

“It was! I’m so amped up! Can’t wait for the next game on Thursday,” Hyejin agreed.

The Korean team won. Eked out a victory, really, but a win is a win. They’d have a day to recover and prepare before taking on a powerhouse French team. Whether the team could keep up performing at such a high level, Yongsun had no idea, but she was looking forward to finding out.

“Is there more food?” Hyejin asked.

“I put the extra in the fridge. If not, I have more at my apartment.” Her mom sent her back on Sunday with enough food to last her a week. Taking Wheein and Hyejin’s voracious appetites into account, the food could last the three of them a few days.

“I’ll go check.”

As Hyejin lifted herself from the floor and ambled to the kitchen, Wheein circled back to an earlier conversation they started but never finished.

“So . . . how does being single feel? Are you okay after the breakup?”

“I’m fine. It’s weird, I haven’t really felt sad or distraught or anything. Makes me wonder if I ever liked him romantically.” After her never‑ending reflection on things with Moonbyul, dissecting her relationship with Jinyoung was second on Yongsun’s list of things to drive herself mad over.

“Everyone reacts to things differently, unnie. Just because you’re not crying or having outbursts doesn’t mean you didn’t care about him in your own way. It depends on the person.”

“I guess,” she shrugged, thoughts still racing as she set her eyes on the now turned off television.

“I’m back! What did I miss?”

“Not much,” Wheein giggled. Watching Hyejin arrange all of her food on the living room table was surprisingly fascinating. “Unnie’s still fine after her breakup.”

“Mmm, that’s good! A good start to your post-relationship glow.”

“My what?”

“Post-relationship glow.”

“It’s like . . . I don’t know how to explain it. Hyejin, explain.”

“It’s when someone gets out of a relationship and they get hotter. Start having more fun, enjoying the single life. Doing their thing.”

“I see. Does this automatically happen once someone gets out of a relationship? Like, how does it work?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Hyejin beamed. “Most of it is your attitude. Confidence. Some people change something about their appearance, some don’t. It’s whatever you want, but the attitude is **key**. You have to really believe that you’re the hottest person in every room you enter. Self-love stuff.”

“Yeah, then that sticks to you and everything gets exponentially better. You just start glowing. When the mentality is there, everything else follows.”

“For sure. And, optional but strongly encouraged, going out and hooking up with people. Just to test all the skills that went dormant during the relationship.”

“**But**,” Wheein quickly inserted herself. She saw the argument at the tip of Yongsun’s tongue. “Hooking up is not a requirement. You could just flirt. It’s really about opening yourself up to meeting new people.”

“Yes to what Wheein said. I think you’ll really enjoy this time, though. And you said earlier that you and Jinyoung only kissed and stuff, but trust me, you’ll miss that, even if it was only a little bit. Might as well be open to doing it with other people without the stress and confines of a relationship.”

“It’s a . . . learning experience.”

“An educational opportunity, perhaps?”

These two were something else.

“So I’m supposed to go around hooking up with people?”

“You can, but the most important part is the confidence. It’s a time to grow to love yourself more. **All** of yourself.”

“Yeah. Love yourself and have fun. The hooking up stuff is secondary, but if you’re loving yourself and having fun, that attracts people.”

“It’s true,” Wheein nodded.

“So . . . yeah. All of us can go out together and have fun! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“Actually . . . yeah. Some of it does. The confidence stuff.”

“Yay! It’ll do you so much good, unnie,” Hyejin’s voice softened. “Jinyoung was a great start, but you have so much more in you waiting to come out. You’re hot.”

“Super hot.”

“Super, duper hot. And you haven’t even touched on 20% of your hotness. The day you tap into all of your potential, it’s over for everyone.”

“Oh gosh, Hyejin. Please,” Yongsun rolled her eyes and chuckled softly.

“I’m serious! Wheein, tell her!”

“It’s true, unnie! You could be really dangerous. Very.”

“But you have to be open to exploring and growing in that regard.”

“I already said I’d go out with you two. That’s all I’m committing to right now. The rest . . . we’ll see.”

“Got it! I’ll take that!” Hyejin fist pumped.

“Now that that’s settled, what are we doing tonig–”

Wheein was interrupted by Yongsun’s cell phone ringing. She knew who it was before picking up the phone. The surprising part was that she hadn’t realized so much time had passed since the game ended. Time flew when in good company, it seemed.

“Sorry, Wheein-ah. I have to take this.”

Upon the video call connecting, Yongsun was treated to the cutest, brightest smile she always appreciated, but never openly praised.

“Hi,” she grinned.

“Hi,” Moonbyul grinned back. “You’re at my place?”

“Yeah. You know I only have the small television since Misuk left with her big one.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Did you text me?”

“Not this time, no. I was so excited, I just called you as soon as I could. Is this a good time to talk?”

“That’s fine. I thought I missed a text, but I’m happy to hear I didn’t. And yeah, we can talk.”

“No! You can’t talk, she’s with us!” Hyejin sprang from the floor to throw herself across Yongsun and thrust her face into the phone.

“Hi, Hyejin-ah,” Byulyi greeted the youngest cutely, signature smirk etched on.

“Don’t ‘hi, Hyejin-ah’ me. I never got a video call after your Olympic games,” she pouted.

“Me neither!” Wheein yelled, head still resting in the arm of the couch.

“Hi, Wheein-ah!”

“Save it.”

“Yikes. I’m in trouble.”

“Yes, you are. Where were our calls?”

“I love you both,” the athlete deflected.

Yongsun had long since surrendered her phone to Hyejin. The back and forth between her friends gave her more time to think. There were butterflies fluttering in her tummy again when she heard the familiar ringtone chime. That had to mean something. And her cheeks were sore from how hard she smiled at seeing Byulyi’s face and hearing her voice. That, too, had to mean something. Right?

The problem was that she had nothing to compare her reactions to Moonbyul to. Whatever she thought she felt for the athlete far surpassed what she knew she felt—or didn’t feel, rather—for Jinyoung, and there weren’t any others that she had ever considered as plausible options. Maybe Hyejin and Wheein were right. She needed to allow herself to be attracted to other people.

“Unnie,” she heard Hyejin say. Thinking the younger girl was talking to her, Yongsun looked up, but quickly realized she was still messing with Moonbyul. “Yongsun-unnie is gonna start going out with me and Wheein.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Are you going to join us?”

“I do know that we all have to go out for your birthday when I get back. That I can commit to.”

“You’re not gonna pick up people with us?”

“Yongsun agreed to go pick people up? Sounds like something you made up.”

“Tell her, unnie!”

With the phone now turned towards her, Yongsun shrugged her shoulders at Byulyi before unenthusiastically agreeing. “Yeah. I agreed to go out with them. I’m not fully opposed to picking people up. Considering it. Gotta live it up every now and then, right?”

“See!” Hyejin turned the phone back.

“Mmm.”

“Back to my birthday, though, it’s good to hear that you remembered.”

“Of course I did. I could never forget my favorite girl’s birthday. We have to celebrate. Once these pesky Olympics are over, we can get to the important things, yeah?”

“I like what I’m hearing,” Hyejin smirked.

“Wait, Hyejin’s your favorite girl? You told me that **I’m** your favorite girl!” Wheein sat up in protest.

“You are. All three of you are my favorite girls.”

“So who’s your most favorite?” Hyejin inquired.

“I got this gross bruise today. I think I deserve all three beautiful women, don’t you?”

“Ugh. Annoying.”

“You sound like Yongsun!” Moonbyul laughed.

“I don’t know how or why unnie puts up with you.”

“Neither do I, but I’m grateful for it.”

At no point did Yongsun get her phone back to have a one-on-one conversation with Moonbyul. Hyejin, and later Wheein, coopted the call, which was fine by her. She sat back and listened as Byulyi continued to say all the right things at the right times, sprinkling in the perfect amount of humor and self‑deprecation. The athlete always did. And that . . . bothered her? She wasn’t exactly sure what to call it, but it was something she had to consider. Yet **another** thing to be considered.

It wasn’t that Byulyi was disingenuous in what she said and did. She said and did sweet things because she was a sweet person. What Yongsun worried about was that, like the long list of girls that came before her, she was getting caught up in the sweet things and projecting meaning where there was none.

Eric was right. She needed to take a deep breath. Was she attracted to Byulyi? She wasn’t yet sure. It was possible. Did she need time to come down from her relationship, focus on herself, and maybe have some fun? Yes. Absolutely yes.

That would be her focus for now. Everything else could wait.


	24. Messy

**To: Eric**  
What are you doing this weekend? _10:11 am_

There was no point in waiting to start this “enjoy the single life” thing. School started in a few weeks and once it did, Yongsun would have significantly less free time to be “carefree”. If she was going to do it, she needed to do it now.

Excited that she agreed to try being more social, Wheein and Hyejin decided to strike while the iron was hot. They proposed that the three of them go out to Hongdae to eat and see where the night took them. Not wanting to look like she was retreating into her antisocial ways, Yongsun accepted the offer. Only afterwards did she remember that Chorong would be moved in by then and asked if her same-aged friend could join them—the younger girls gave her permission. Figuring she might as well make an event out of it, Yongsun also decided to invite Eric. It wasn’t until this morning, though, that she remembered to message him about it.

Wrapped in her comforter like a burrito—sleeping with the air conditioning on high was a habit that needed changing—the black-haired girl laughed quietly to herself at how excited she was about assembling her “crew”. Never before had she had one. A few people she hung out with from time to time, yes, but a collective of people, all of whom she cared deeply for and felt close enough to share most things with? No. This was a first. A welcomed one. It was astonishing how much of a difference one year could make.

Having spent enough time in her head, the graduate student resigned herself to getting out of bed. Chorong was moving in today, so, even though Yongsun had no work at the Center, she needed to triple check that the apartment was presentable. Her bare legs were only just swung over the side of her elevated bed when her phone vibrated. Feet dangling, she took a moment to respond, knowing before checking her notifications that it was Eric.

**From: Eric**

Depends. _10:25 am_

**To: Eric**

🙄

Nevermind. _10:26 am_

😅Joking! What’s up? _10:26 am_

We’re going out.

I wanted to invite you. _10:27 am_

I’m in! _10:28 am_

Haven’t even given you details yet . . . _10:29 am_

Doesn’t matter. I need a night out. _10:30 am_

Uh oh. Everything okay? _10:31 am_

I’ll tell you this weekend. _10:31 am_

😳 _10:32 am_

Accurate.

I can crash with you, right? _10:34 am_

Absolutely. _10:35 am_

Chorong’ll be cool w/ it? _10:36 am_

This was going to be an adjustment for her. In her head, Yongsun **knew** that Chorong was moving in. That information hadn’t yet seeped into her thoughts and actions, though, not only because sharing the space with her friend hadn’t happened yet, but also because Misuk was very different. The younger girl was almost never in the apartment on weekends, and when she was present, she stayed in her bedroom. Yongsun rarely had to consider someone else when deciding to have people over, which was part of the reason Moonbyul came over as often as she did. It felt most of the time as if she had a single. While she and Chorong hadn’t lived the life of roommates yet, the black-haired girl thought it safe to assume that Chorong would **not** be a Misuk. She needed to start considering her when making plans that would potentially affect them both.

**To: Eric**

Good question.

She likes you. It should be fine. _10:40 am_

**From: Eric**

Nice! Excited! Ttyl about details. _10:40 am_

As that conversation was neatly wrapped up, a new message flashed onto Yongsun’s screen:

**From: Rongie**

Arriving around 1:00 pm. Cool? _10:40 am_

**To: Rongie**

Perfect! See you soon! _10:41 am_

She needed to get her ass up immediately.

*

Chorong was punctual. At 1:00 pm, Yongsun received a text alerting her to the girl’s presence at UV. Although her new roommate had already signed a lease for the apartment, there was additional paperwork that needed to be completed. As such, while Chorong dealt with that in the management office, Yongsun and Changsub worked alongside one another to bring Chorong’s possessions upstairs. By the time she joined them, a good amount of progress had been made.

A couple hours later, the girls struck up a conversation as they sat watching Changsub set up the big-screen television—all three agreed that was the number one priority.

“What are you going to unpack next?”

“Nothing,” Chorong chuckled.

“Nothing?!”

“I’m too tired,” she whined before dramatically laying her head on Yongsun’s shoulder.

“Changsub and I did most of the heavy lifting.”

“Um, **I** did most of the heavy lifting,” Changsub peaked his head out from behind the television.

“Changsub, this isn’t about you. This is about Chorong unpacking her things and getting set up in the apartment.”

“I put sheets on my bed. That should count.”

“That’s . . . a fair point,” Yongsun conceded.

After another half hour had passed, Changsub **finally** had the television set up. The three lazed around poking holes in the plot of the drama they were watching when a rap on the apartment door caught their attention.

“You expecting anyone?” Yongsun asked her new roommate.

“Definitely not. It must be for you.”

Her curiosity piqued, Yongsun lifted herself from the couch to check. Once she saw who it was, though, she quirked an eyebrow before easing the door open.

“Why didn’t you just call or text me that you were outside?”

“Isn’t knocking on the door how it was done in the old days when you were young?” Hyejin brushed past her, Wheein in tow.

“You can leave, you know?”

“She’s joking, unnie,” Wheein spoke up in a placating tone.

“I am,” Hyejin promptly agreed. “I was joking. I love you. We both do.”

“What do you want?” Yongsun rolled her eyes.

“We’re hungry,” the youngest pouted.

“Fine. What do you want to eat?” No matter what, Yongsun would never allow them to go without food. The three of them had reached a point where that went without saying.

Before Hyejin could spout off her, no doubt, very specific order, Chorong interrupted.

“Hyejin and Wheein live in University Village, too?”

“Sorry. Where are our manners? Hi, Chorong-unnie, Changsub-oppa,” the young girls greeted the apartment’s other occupants. “We don’t live here, we’re visiting for the week and are staying in Byul-unnie’s apartment down the hall.”

“Her apartment is down the hall?” That was directed at Yongsun, who tried to deflect.

“Hyejin, tell me what you and Wheein want so I can order it.”

“She lives down the hall, Yongsun?!”

“I mentioned that before,” she dismissively responded.

“You did not. You mentioned that she lived in the same building, which is one thing. Her living down the **hall**, though, is very different.”

“Oh yeah,” Hyejin laughed, “I forgot the two of you don’t like each other.”

Yongsun shook her head at the comment before fishing her phone out of her shorts’ pockets. This was not the conversation she needed right now.

“Hyejin-ah, **please**, just tell me what you want to eat. Please,” she pleaded.

*

Thankfully, the looming tension from earlier dissipated and the five of them were able to find topics of conversation enjoyable to all. To show his excitement over Chorong moving in with Yongsun, Changsub bought enough food and drinks for everyone. In his words, it was a moment of celebration, so they should all celebrate.

What resulted was a mini-party, just the five of them playing music and chatting amongst themselves. The atmosphere was light and comfortable. Despite Chorong’s warnings against it, Changsub somehow conned Wheein into letting him be the DJ. His first selection was a rap song that Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin were all unfamiliar with. It wasn’t bad at all, but they found his dance moves distracting.

“See, this is why I said don’t let him pick the music. He only plays the most obscure rap songs.”

“This is **real** rap, Rong-ah.”

“Agreed,” Wheein mischievously encouraged him. “Those dance moves are no joke, oppa.”

“Are you joining us this weekend? After seeing you like this, you **have** to come out with us,” Hyejin insisted.

“See, Chorong? Wheein and Hyejin have taste.”

“They’re making fun of you,” the girl rolled her eyes.

“Jealousy is a disease, Chorong. As for this weekend, Hyejin-ah, I can’t. I’m hanging out with Jinyoung and Hodong. Unless . . . I bring them?”

“Well, seeing as the whole point of the weekend is to get Yongsun-unnie to meet and hook up with new people, it may not be the best idea to have her ex around.”

“I did not agree to hook up with people, Hyejin! Stop saying that.”

The younger girl simply waved her off before joining Wheein in checking what food was left.

“Speaking of Jinyoung,” Changsub concluded his dancing to sidle up to Yongsun on the couch, “why didn’t you tell me that the two of you broke up?”

Yongsun took a look around to see what the others were doing before she responded—Chorong was on her phone on the armchair by the window, Wheein and Hyejin were in the kitchen area.

“I figured he’d tell you.” She never thought she’d have to tell everyone personally. When it happened, Yongsun told Chorong, and she assumed either Chorong or Jinyoung would tell the others.

“He did, but . . . I don’t know. It kind of hurt that you didn’t mention it.”

The last thing she expected tonight was a heart-to-heart about her breakup. “I’m . . . sorry. Didn’t know it would affect you like this.”

“You and I are friends, too. Maybe I’m being dramatic about it, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m more his friend or anything like that. We’re all still friends.”

“Of course,” she smiled sincerely. He leaned in for a hug and she reciprocated. Changsub hugs were some of the best hugs and it had been too long since she last had one.

“Why are the two of you hugging?” Chorong interrupted.

“Would you like to join?” Yongsun playfully asked.

“No. I’ll pass,” she sat to Yongsun’s left. “Excited about this weekend, though! I really think it’ll be fun. Hyejin and Wheein are right, you need to let your hair down and have a carefree night or two.”

“I kind of want to cancel on Hodong and Jinyoung now. Yongsun letting loose sounds epic.”

“The two of you are a mess. Before I forget, Chorong, Eric is joining us this weekend and wanted to crash here. I told him it would be fine, but wanted to double-check. If not, I’ll figure something out for him.”

“It’s fine. Eric’s cool.”

“Now I **really** want to cancel on Hodong and Jinyoung. Eric gets to spend a whole weekend with a group of beautiful women. Not fair.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Chorong laughed.

*

“Yongsun, you don’t think you’re overreacting a bit? It’s just a game.”

“Happy to know you have no national pride, Chorong,” she responded dryly as she got comfortable in her cross-legged position on the living room floor in front of the television.

“National pride? It’s a basketball game. Calm down.”

“Unnie, leave her be. This is how she’s been with all the games. She takes them very seriously,” Wheein tried explaining. Judging by the expression on Chorong’s face, though, her opinion remained the same.

Yongsun couldn’t care less. This was a big deal. Korea could possibly move on to the semifinals of **the Olympics**. She needed to focus and wasn’t going to let Chorong or anyone else distract her.

Today’s game was against France, the fourth-ranked team in the world. From what Byul had told her, and from her own research, they were a powerhouse: skilled, quick, and tall. This would be a challenge, but Yongsun held out faith that Byulyi and the rest of the team could do the unthinkable and make their way to the final four. Judging by the crowd in the arena, many others hoped the same, too. The team’s unexpected run had garnered many fans—Korea was the tournament sweetheart. That alone temporarily eased Yongsun’s anxiety about this quarterfinal match.

“The game’s starting, everyone,” Hyejin announced. “Chorong-unnie, if there’re any last words you have for Yongsun-unnie, say them now before she gets into her zone.”

“Ha ha, Hyejin,” Yongsun laughed humorlessly. “You all can continue with the jokes. They don’t bother me.”

“You’re like a fangirl,” Chorong observed.

“It’s funny you say that! She’s the president of Byul-unnie’s basketball fan club.”

“Wheein,” the eldest protested, “you’re starting with this fan club stuff again?”

“Unnie,” Hyejin jumped in, “look at you. You’re in front of the television stressing over her basketball game. Is that not ‘president of the fan club’ material?”

Turning back to the television, Yongsun responded, “Then as president of the club, all of your applications are denied.”

“I **know** you’re talking to Hyejin and Wheein because I would never even think of applying for anything of the sort.”

“We get it Chorong, you don’t like Byulyi,” Yongsun deadpanned. The others laughed, but Yongsun focused her attention on the game. She’d given them enough time and ended up missing the opening tip.

Wheein was curious though.

“Why exactly don’t you like her, Chorong-unnie? Did she do something to you?”

“I’ve just heard that she’s messy and that she plays with girls’ feelings. I don’t like that.”

“She **does** flirt a lot; I’ll give you that. She’s not the type to intentionally play with people’s feelings, though.”

“And we’re not only saying that because we’re her friends,” Hyejin chimed in. “When she first got to SNU, I’ll admit, she was a little messy, but Byul-unnie’s really not like that. She’s the type that likes romance and relationships and all that stuff.”

“Her and Sunmi was ‘romance and relationships’?” Chorong asked skeptically. “From what I heard, she was stringing that girl along.”

“That was . . . a misunderstanding,” Wheein finished unconvincingly.

“Hmm. It seems there are many misunderstandings when it comes to her and others.”

“You two are wasting your time. I’ve tried. She doesn’t like Byul, Byul doesn’t like her. I accepted it, the two of you should, too.” Yongsun said all of that without turning her head from the screen. The other three had no idea she was even paying their conversation any mind.

“Look,” Chorong lifted her hands in defense, “I’m not trying to attack your friend, I’m just sharing what I’ve heard, but the three of you know her best. If you swear by her, then fine. She’s not my cup of tea, but I won’t go out of the way to start problems with her. I can promise you that.”

That was fair. They left it at that.

*

Saying that the game did not go well was an understatement. France dominated in every way imaginable. The first half, Korea was able to play them tough and keep it close, heading into halftime only down by 5 points. It seemed, however, that the pep talk the French head coach gave her team woke them up because they started the second half with a relentless offensive attack and smothering defense. It grew difficult to watch at one point, but Yongsun persisted.

In the end, Korea lost by 15, but that was misleading—France had taken their starters out for almost all of the fourth quarter, giving the Korean team ample time to cut down their 30-point deficit. All things considered, Byulyi and her teammates did their best and showed themselves to have talented players that could be groomed into forces to be reckoned with. No one could be mad at that. Their showing at the Olympics was one that brought pride to their nation.

While disappointed, Yongsun was mainly worried about how Moonbyul would take everything. Twenty minutes after the game ended, the athlete texted her that she’d be calling in a few minutes. That was the quickest after a game that Byulyi had ever scheduled one of their calls. The graduate student didn’t know what to make of that.

“Unnie, do you know what you’re wearing on Friday?”

“No idea, Hyejin. Why?”

“Let me dress you.”

“No.”

“Why?! I did a great job for Midnight Madness. You said you loved it.”

“I did love it. That was a big event, though, this weekend is supposed to be lowkey. I’m not going to a bar dressed up.”

“You’re no fun,” the youngest pouted.

“How about this, I’l—” Hyejin’s hopeful eyes at Yongsun’s sentence turned agitated as the graduate student’s ringtone blared through the room. “It’s Byulyi, gotta take this.”

Yongsun stood to head to her room but stopped momentarily as Chorong called to her from the couch.

“Wait, just like that? You were mid-sentence. You’re just going to leave to talk on the phone that abruptly?”

“Get used to it, unnie. Whenever Byul-unnie calls or texts her, she drops everything.”

“Wheein-ah, don’t lie. That’s not true.” Her gaze was fixed on her cell phone, though, deciding to accept the call before Moonbyul assumed she was busy or uninterested.

“It definitely is,” Hyejin confirmed.

“Byul-ah, they’re bullying me,” she pouted into the phone.

“Who’s bullying my Yongsun?”

“Chorong, Wheein, and Hyejin.”

“Please leave me out of this,” Chorong comically put her hands up in prayer.

“It’s okay, Yong. I’ll protect you.”

“Thank you,” she cutely responded.

“Since when does she act like this? The Yongsun I know is not . . . this,” Chorong waved a hand in Yongsun’s direction.

“You sound disgusted,” Hyejin laughed.

“Because I am. This is so weird.”

“Unnie, that’s just how they are. They get caught up in their own little world. It’s best to not question it. They’re just weird like that sometimes.”

“Byul-ah, sorry to cut you off, but Wheein just called us weird.” Most of what Chorong, Wheein, and Hyejin had said before went unheard by Yongsun, who hung on Moonbyul’s every word.

“Wheein-ah. You’re too pretty to be this jealous,” the blonde shouted from the phone.

“Ew. I’m going to go unpack my room.” Chorong seemed to have reached her limit.

“Rongie, don’t be like that. I’ll take the call in my room. You can stay out here with Wheein and Hyejin.”

Moments later, the two were alone. Yongsun scurried to jump onto her bed and lie on her back. Both legs bent at the knees, she rested her cell phone on her thigh before resuming their conversation.

“Okay. I’m in my room now.”

“I can see that,” Moonbyul chuckled.

“Hush. Where are you?” It looked like the athlete was also lying down somewhere.

“The trainer’s room. Coach finished his speech then I came straight here. I haven’t received treatment yet, but it’s going to take forever. I needed company so I called you.”

“You’re just using me then?”

“Yes. I’m selfish and I’m using you to help pass the time.” Despite her words, Moonbyul’s gaze was tender.

“How’s your face?”

“It hurts. I got hit in the same spot under my eye again,” she winced.

“I know. That’s why I asked. Is it swelling again?”

“Aww, you care about me. How touching. And no, I don’t think it’s swelling. It just hurts. I’ll be okay, though.”

Yongsun hummed in acknowledgment.

“Some people were leaving comments on my Instagram that they like the bruise, so maybe it’s not a bad thing that it’ll last for a bit longer.”

“You just like the praise and attention, that’s why you posted that picture of your face yesterday,” Yongsun accused. Once she saw that Moonbyul had posted something, she went to check the picture, only to see the image and the caption, _“Wish I had someone to take care of me_ 🥺”. Never before had she scrolled past a picture quicker in her life. Yongsun didn’t even want to imagine what the comments under that were like.

“Oh, so you know that I posted a picture? Because I don’t remember seeing a like or comment from you . . .”

“You’re so petty. You checked to see if I interacted with the picture? What a loser.”

“My face **hurts** and you couldn’t even leave a nice comment? I’m demoting you from ‘top favorite girl’.”

“I checked on you all yesterday,” Yongsun calmly countered with a small smile. Moon Byulyi was ridiculous. Possibly one of the biggest babies to ever exist, and Yongsun thought it was adorable.

“Yeah, but you didn’t leave a comment for everyone to see, so it doesn’t count.”

“Those are the rules?” Once the blonde nodded, Yongsun laughed and played along. “My apologies then. From now on I’ll follow the rules.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“As for the favorite girl thing, you have like fifty thousand favorite girls. The title isn’t special anymore.”

“But there’s only one ‘most favorite girl of all favorite girls in the history of favorite girls,’ and that’s you. I’d argue that’s the most special title, no?”

“I don’t believe you. Sweet words automatically fall from your lips. You probably say the same thing to everyone.”

The graduate student watched with rapt attention as a contemplative look overtook Byul’s face. For moments they both lay on their backs, neither saying a word. Moonbyul broke the silence first. She was serious when she spoke.

“Whatever I say to you is what I say to you. Stop saying that I speak the same to everyone. I don’t. I don’t speak to anyone the way I speak to you.” Yongsun sensed no anger in Moonbyul’s words. The younger girl spoke as if she were reciting a well-known fact, but she also spoke with conviction, leaving no room for argument or misinterpretation. Yongsun’s stomach did a small flip.

Hearing Byulyi articulate her thoughts the way she did filled Yongsun with . . . glee? She wasn’t exactly sure what it was she was feeling, but she liked what she heard and no longer felt shame in admitting that she enjoyed words of adoration and appreciation. They made her feel special, and she liked feeling special. What Yongsun was still unclear on, though, was whether she liked feeling special in general, or if it was Moonbyul making her feel special that she relished.

“When are you coming home?”

“Why? You miss me? It’s only been three weeks.” Byulyi joked.

“No.”

“So why are you asking?”

“I want to know how much more free time I have before you come back and terrorize my life.”

“I’ll keep my return a surprise then.”

“Stop,” Yongsun whined, “just tell me when you’re coming back!”

“My family’s here, so I’m spending time with the team and my family until the team leaves on the 11th, then it’ll be vacation time with family until the 16th.”

“So another week and a half until you get back?”

“Yes, ma’am. Think you can last until then?”

“Shut up. Won’t that be tough on you and your body? By the time you get back, you’ll only have a week before classes start.” Moonbyul spoke about her schedule so casually, but training as intensely as she had been for the past three months was difficult. On top of that, with little to no rest, she’d be jumping right back into classes and training for the university team upon her return from Japan. Yongsun would be remiss if she didn’t worry about her best friend’s well-being.

“As long I have you by my side, I’ll be okay.”

Why was she **so** good with her words?

*

If you asked Wheein and Hyejin, night #1 of the group’s weekend out was a failure. To their knowledge, Yongsun spoke to no new people, got no phone numbers, and hooked up with no one.

If you asked Yongsun, it was one of the best nights out she’d ever had—she and Eric got to catch up, almost all of her best friends were in the same place, and they were all having a good time. Things didn’t get much better than that.

Although Wheein and Hyejin gave her constant reminders throughout the night to get her act together and socialize with new faces, Yongsun got too caught up in the jokes her friends were making to remember that she was supposed to be interacting with other people. They found a restaurant to eat at for a couple of hours before deciding to spend the rest of their time in Hongdae bar‑hopping.

She hadn’t taken a sip of anything alcoholic all night, realizing that her friends were doing enough of that, but Yongsun still enjoyed herself. The five agreed that the bar they were currently at would be their last—they had an 11:33 pm train back to SNU and if they missed it, they’d be assed out.

With Wheein, Hyejin, and Chorong off mingling, Yongsun took the opportunity to catch up with Eric, who still had yet to update her on what hin so frustrated earlier in the week. Deftly sliding into the seat next to him and playfully bumping his shoulder, she broached the topic.

“So . . . ready to talk about what was bothering you? I waited until you had a bunch of drinks in your system before I brought it up.”

He scrubbed his face aggressively before releasing a heavy sigh. “It’s a girl. Well, I guess past tense is more appropriate. It **was** a girl.”

“A girl?!”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he sipped from his can of beer.

“Sorry,” Yongsun blushed from embarrassment. “It’s just that you don’t really talk about seeing anyone, so it caught me off guard. Anyway, what about this girl?”

“Not much to tell. Went out with some friends one night, met her, we started chatting, then we exchanged numbers. We spoke a lot, had a lot in common, then we started hanging out and then hanging out turned into hooking up. I liked her and she seemed to like me, but as soon as I mentioned wanting a more official relationship, she started acting hot and cold.”

“How?”

“I’d message her and then she’d ghost me, then would pop up a week or so later as if nothing happened. It was frustrating, but I figured she was busy with work or something. I don’t know.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. Anyway, a couple days before you invited me out, I found out she had a boyfriend. Like, a **boyfriend** boyfriend. As in, been together for a year boyfriend.”

“No!”

“Yup,” he popped the p. “It makes sense now why she got so weird after I started talking about the two of us being in a relationship. Her stringing me along also makes all the sense in the world now.”

Yongsun gently laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that.”

“It’s okay. Tonight has helped a lot, though. You and your friends are a lot of fun. Helped to take my mind off of that.”

“They’re your friends, too.”

“I guess.”

“There’s no guessing. They are.” She waited a few moments before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“We were seeing each other and I wasn’t sure where it was going, so there wasn’t much to tell. Her ghosting me . . . that was embarrassing, so I **definitely** wasn’t going to mention that. Plus, you had your thing with Moonbyul going on. I didn’t want to put that on you while you were figuring that out.”

“Are you kidding me,” she gently smacked him on his stomach, “that would’ve been the perfect distraction. I was so in my head about the Byulyi stuff. It would’ve been helpful to have something else to figure out.”

“Next time I get ghosted and played, you’ll be the first I tell about it.”

“Stop. It won’t happen again.”

“You have no way of knowing,” he laughed softly.

“Don’t doubt my abilities.”

“Okay, Yongsun.”

Suddenly, she sat up, startling Eric.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone! I’m going to text that girl.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not. Give me your phone. Stop shielding her. That was gross what she did.”

He contemplated it for a moment before chuckling softly and fishing his phone from his pocket. Finding the proper contact, Eric handed her the phone. “Here.”

“Perfect.”

It took her 10 minutes, but Yongsun eventually crafted what she believed to be the perfect text to such an inconsiderate person. Eric was sweet and kind. He deserved someone that realized and treasured that.

“Sent it!”

“Oh gosh. Let me see what you sent.”

The black-haired girl looked on expectantly as Eric reviewed what she wrote, hoping he’d approve.

“Yongsun!” Eric guffawed. “Oh my goodness,” he forced out as he laughed uncontrollably.

“I did good?”

“Yeah, you did good.”

**To: Danbi**

Hi. This is one of Eric’s best friends. You’re lucky I don’t live in Suwon anymore. He just told me what you did to him and, you know what, it’s a good thing the two of you didn’t work out. He deserves much better than someone as classless as you. Don’t ever talk to him again; if you do, I’ll fight you (I’m a girl by the way, so it’s okay if I fight you). You’re gross and I feel bad for your boyfriend. Hope you get a papercut between your index finger and thumb. _10:58 pm_

“Oh!” He suddenly changed gears. “Guess who I saw the other day? Seungyeon.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She stopped by SKKU to say hi to Coach Lim and I caught her on her way out. I mentioned that you were in Seoul and she was surprised by that, so I’m assuming you never contacted her like you said you would.”

Damnit. She had forgotten all about that.

“I forgot.”

“You always forget. I’m going to message her now and see if we can all get together before I leave on Sunday.”

A slightly tipsy Chorong appeared just then, wrapping an arm around both Eric and Yongsun.

“I was told by Wheein to tell the two of **you** that we need to leave to catch our train.”

“You drunk, Rongie?”

“No, Yongie,” she giggled, “I’m a little tipsy, but I’m feeling great.”

“Remember we have another night of this tomorrow. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“You’re right, Yongie. That’s why we’re going home now.”

“Okay. Let’s go home. Come on, Eric.”

“Yes, ma’am. Chorong, where’s your bag? You came with a bag.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet, Eric!”

“He’s a gentleman, yes.”

And so, the three rounded up Wheein and Hyejin before heading home for the night.

While on their second train, Yongsun’s phone buzzed.

**From: Maybe Seungyeon**

Hi, Yongsun. It’s Seungyeon. Eric mentioned you lived in Seoul now and gave me your number; I’m in the city, too. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to meet up with the two of you this weekend, but maybe you and I could catch up sometime next week? Let me know! _12:15 am_

Maybe the night wasn’t a complete failure.

*

Night #2 went a bit better.

The quintet, once again, made their way to Hongdae, and Yongsun put in a modicum of effort. Although she kept her outfit simple, the graduate student straightened her hair and put on eye makeup—it made Hyejin happy, so that was a good sign.

After eating, they all went to a nearby club.

“You have no excuse tonight. You look good. The place is packed. Be social, unnie.”

And she tried. Yongsun genuinely tried to be open to any advances from others, which led to a moment of embarrassment. She wasn’t sure when it started, but a handsome young man had been chatting her up for most of her time in the club. He was well-mannered, giving her space when it seemed like she needed it, and offering to buy drinks for her and her friends. As with the night before, Yongsun opted to not drink, but the rest of her friends took advantage of the opportunity. They spoke and spoke, growing comfortable enough with each other that Yongsun decided she’d give him her number if he asked.

He eventually did ask her something, just . . . not what she’d expected.

“You’re friends with that girl over there, right?” He pointed at Wheein.

“You’ve been chatting me up all night so that you could try getting closer to my friend?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds horrible.”

“How else did you think it was going to sound?”

He thought about it for a bit before responding. “You have a point.”

“Let me introduce you to her,” she laughed.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Truly. I’m not hurt.” And she wasn’t. It was just funny that the moment she became okay with meeting someone, they weren’t actually interested in her. A humbling experience. She **had** to tell Byulyi.

**To: Byul-ah**

I’m out tonight trying to “meet new people”. A guy was chatting me up all night so, naturally, I thought he was interested. He just wanted to get on my good side so I could introduce him to Wheein. _11:45 pm_

She didn’t have to wait long for the response.

**From: Byul-ah**

😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 _11:46 pm_

**To: Byul-ah**

Thank you for being so considerate. _11:46 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

Yong, that is HILARIOUS _11:47 pm_

It’s not. It’s embarrassing.

Thought I got it right in one try 😩 _11:48 pm_

You’ll get em next time, champ. _11:50 pm_

What are you doing tonight? _11:51 pm_

And so, the two of them ended up in their own little world via text. Moonbyul was out partying with her teammates. From what she had told Yongsun, it was a fun time, nothing too wild. Yongsun highly doubted that, Byulyi took great offense to that so, of course, they went back and forth, Yongsun trying to uncover the truth, Moonbyul insisting she was being honest.

So engrossed in their conversation was Yongsun that she hadn’t noticed Hyejin charging at her. She certainly noticed, though, when her phone was snatched from her hands as she was in the middle of a response to Byul.

“Hyejin!”

“Unnie!”

“What’s your problem?”

“You’re supposed to be socializing and instead, you’ve been on your phone for the past 20 minutes. You can’t be serious. Ah,” she checked Yongsun’s screen, “of course. You’re talking to Byul-unnie.”

“I **was** socializing, but then something funny happened.”

“While you’ve been sharing your ‘funny story,’ that guy over there has been checking you out and you haven’t noticed because your head has been in your phone.”

Following the direction Hyejin’s long nails had pointed, Yongsun spotted a tall, lean young man. High cheekbones, casual clothes, hair in a topknot. Brown eyes met . . . she couldn’t quite tell what color his eyes were because the club was dimly lit, but their eyes met and he looked away shyly, his small smile revealing a cute dimple. It was cute.

“I’ll go talk to him. Can I have my phone back, please?”

Hyejin eyed her skeptically before handing it over.

As Yongsun walked over to the young man, she sent Moonbyul one last text.

**To: Byul-ah**

Hyejin scolded me. Going to talk to someone now.

Will report back. _12:01 am_

**From: Byul-ah**

Looking forward to hearing how this goes.

Be safe. _12:01 am_

She wished so badly that Byulyi was there with them.

As she shoved her phone into her back pocket, though, so, too, did she shove the thought from her head. Instead, Yongsun steeled herself for the impending conversation. Her reluctance had nothing to do with the guy himself, and everything to do with her lack of experience flirting with people. Then again, that was the point of this weekend—for her to grow more comfortable with this side of herself.

The distance between him and her closing, Yongsun put on what she hoped was a natural smile and uttered what she hoped would serve as an effective conversation starter.

“Hi. I saw you from across the room and figured I’d regret it if I didn’t come talk to you.”

*

Sunday was a lazy day. No one did anything. Yongsun barely made it to the living room to see Eric off—he left much earlier than he originally said he would, but he had work the next day, so Yongsun chalked it up to him wanting to have enough time to recover in his own home.

He wasn’t the only one that changed plans, though. She, Chorong, Wheein, and Hyejin convinced themselves that they’d be able to do brunch Sunday afternoon. That did **not** happen. The four ended up sprawled around the living room, stomachs growling in protest at not being filled anything of substance for hours now.

“Chorong. You can cook, right?”

“Normally, yes. Right now, no,” Chorong lethargically answered.

“Unnies, we’re hungry.”

“I know, Wheein-ah. I’m working on it.”

“I’ll call Changsub and make him order us food.”

“Isn’t that asking too much of him?” Hyejin tried being considerate, but Yongsun and all the others knew she was not-so-secretly in support of the idea.

“His family has money. He’ll be okay,” Chorong reassured her.

An hour later, the four young women were in more energetic spirits as they happily devoured their meals.

“Bless Changsub-oppa’s heart,” Wheein sang. Various grunts of approval flowed from full mouths.

“I’m going to miss the two of you around here after you leave tomorrow,” Yongsun suddenly confessed.

“We’re going to miss it, too, unnie.”

“Just see if you can move into UV instead of staying in dorms. Then we can have sleepovers all the time.”

“And you can feed us all the time,” Wheein wagged her eyebrows.

“I seriously would. That’s how much I want the both of you around.”

“Well, whether you move into UV or not, we all have to go out again like this weekend. I had a lot of fun,” Chorong shared.

“Yes! We must!”

The four lounged around for the rest of the day, chatting about whatever came to mind. Hyejin soon started asking the real questions, though.

“Yonsgun-unnie, what happened with you and the guy I made you talk to?”

“It went well! I was really nervous about it at first, but he was nice. Very shy, which I did not expect.”

“See, you can’t judge a book by its cover.”

“True. He was sweet. We exchanged numbers. Not sure if it will go anywhere, but I’m proud that I challenged myself.”

“Definitely don’t let it go anywhere. The point is not to get into a relationship, it’s to practice talking to people that are interested in you so that you grow comfortable and confident.”

“Wheein’s right. Next time, don’t give them **your** number, just take theirs. That way you control the situation and you only have to talk to them again if you want to.”

Yongsun wasn’t sure how these two knew so much about all of this at the age of twenty-one, but she didn’t question it.

“Why did Eric-oppa leave so early, unnie?”

“I have no idea. He said he was going to stay until mid-afternoon, but he woke me up around 11:00 am saying that he was heading out. I was so confused.”

“Maybe he had work he forgot about?”

“I doubt it. He was so excited to get away for the weekend after all the drama he was in.”

“What drama?”

It **was** a debrief session, so Yongsun felt okay sharing the Danbi situation with everyone. If Eric were here, she reasoned with herself, he would be okay with it.

“They were together for three months, not two,” Chorong quietly corrected Yongsun at one point during her retelling of everything.

“What was that, Rongie?”

“He and Danbi were seeing each other for three months. You said two.”

“Oh. Sorry. . . . Wait, how do **you** know that?” She asked quizzically.

“He told me,” the ash-brown haired girl responded.

“When did he tell you?”

“Last night,” she blushed.

“Oh. I didn’t see you two talking at the club.”

“Not at the club. When we got back to the apartment.”

Everyone’s ears perked up. It wasn’t Chorong’s words that drew curiosity, it was how soft her voice was and how red her face grew with each passing second.

“Unnie,” Hyejin jumped in, “did something happen between the two of you?”

“Yeah, I guess,” she breathed out. “I don’t know. We hooked up or whatever.”

“Excuse me?!” Yongsun was stunned. She **had** to have misheard that.

“We hooked up.”

“You hooked up with Eric?!”

“Shh, unnie, shh! Chorong-unnie, when you say hooked up, what exactly does that mean?”

“Good question, Hyejin,” Wheein encouraged her friend.

“We had sex.”

“Oh my goodness!” Yongsun stood on the couch and screamed out loud. She didn’t know what took over her, she just knew that the information just dropped on her was too much for her to handle and her body needed a way to rid itself of the awkwardness she suddenly felt. Wheein and Hyejin erupted in hysterics, jumping up and down while they laughed. Chorong simply sat composed on the opposite end of the couch, trying to hold back her own laughter. It was chaos.

“You had sex with **Eric**?!” Yongsun sought clarification.

“Yongsun, stop,” Chorong laughed. “He’s sweet.”

“You had sex with Eric.” She kept saying the words, but they felt foreign on her tongue.

“Unnie, let her explain. Go ahead. How did it happen?”

“I don’t want to know how it happened.”

“Shh, let her talk, Yongsun-unnie.”

“Okay,” she started bashfully. “We had talked before at your birthday celebration and got friendlier this weekend. Once we got home last night, we all went our separate ways—you to the your room, him to the living room, me to my room. A few hours after I fell asleep, I heard a noise in my room that woke me up. It was him. He was looking for the bathroom and confused my room with yours, then ended up tripping on one of the unpacked boxes in my room—that was the noise I heard. We laughed about it and started talking. He told me about the girl he was seeing and what happened between them. Then . . . yeah, one thing led to another and . . . yeah.”

“One thing led to another? This should be illegal.”

“You’re overreacting, Yongsun. He’s a handsome guy.”

“She’s right, unnie. He is.”

“You’re telling me that you **never** had a thing for him?”

“Ew, Chorong. No. He’s like a brother to me.”

“Well, I cannot say the same,” Chorong burst into laughter, prompting the others to do the same.

“Okay, but was he good?” Hyejin refocused the conversation.

“Hyejin, oh my gosh. What is wrong with you?”

“What? You don’t want to know?”

“No!”

“Well, I do.”

“Me, too, unnie. I’m curious.”

“You’re all sick.”

“He was **really** good,” Chorong ignored Yongsun’s disinterest in the topic. “I was surprised by how good he was. Not that I expected him to be horrible, I just hadn’t thought about it. But yeah, he was great.”

“So, did you, you know?”

“Did she what?” Yongsun asked.

“Have an orgasm. I did, yeah. He’s **good**.”

“Don’t tell me you and him are going to be together now.”

“Why would we?”

“Because you had sex?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to hooking up with him again, but I don’t want to date him. It’s just sex, Yongsun.”

“That’s weird,” Yongsun muttered.

“How? People have sex all the time. It just happens.”

“It does not ‘just happen’.”

“It does. Example, see last night.”

“Yeah, that’s weird to me.”

“I could understand. You’re used to relationship sex. It’s different being single.”

The little shits that they are, Wheein and Hyejin snickered at Chorong’s statement.

“What?” A confused Chorong asked.

“You two are so annoying,” Yongsun’s face gradually grew pink.

“What?” Chorong asked again.

“Yeah, unnie,” Wheein directed her gaze at Yongsun, “what?”

“They’re laughing because you said I’m accustomed to relationship sex,” she rolled her eyes.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s never had relationship sex,” Hyejin finally blurted out.

“Oh. I assumed you and Jinyoung did it. Sorry.”

“We didn’t.”

“How come? You weren’t attracted to him like that?”

“It’s not that,” Yongsun mumbled. “I’ve just . . . never had sex before and I’d always get nervous when things would heat up with him. So . . . yeah.”

“You’ve never had sex?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m leaving. This is embarrassing.”

She stomped off, but Chorong caught her arm before she get far.

“Aww, no, don’t go. I didn’t know! Aww, our girl is a virgin.” Chorong pulled Yongsun onto her and hugged her tightly. “It’s okay, nothing to be embarrassed about. That’s why you two were laughing?”

“Yeah. And that’s why we’ve been so adamant about her getting more comfortable with herself before she dates again.”

“My Yongie is a virgin. Oh, our baby,” Chorong caressed Yongsun’s face, occasionally pinching her plump cheeks.

“Isn’t that so cute?” Hyejin cooed.

“It really is. Well, don’t worry about it. Your time will come and it’ll happen on your terms. You’ll be fine.”

“Can we change the topic now? Wheein and Hyejin, tell us how the weekend went for the two of you.”

Thankfully, they allowed the diversion, delving into a play-by-play of the funniest moments they’d experienced or observed. Yongsun readjusted herself, laying her head on Chorong’s lap before reaching for her phone and sending two messages, neither of which were to Moonbyul. That was progress, right?

**To: Eric**

YOU HAD SEX WITH CHORONG?! _5:38 pm_

**To: Seungyeon**

Hi, Seungyeon! Apologies for the delay; it’s been a wild weekend. I’d love to meet up! Maybe we could grab some ice cream towards the end of the week? How about Thursday? _5:40 pm_

Both responded almost immediately.

**From: Eric**

😅 _5:41 pm_

He was an idiot.

Seungyeon’s response was more promising. Even with the bomb that Chorong dropped on her about hooking up with Eric, Yongsun felt at peace knowing that she had a fun weekend with people she genuinely cared about that genuinely cared about her, too. She loved having friends and, although she and Seungyeon were never the closest during their time at SKKU, the prospect of making a new friend was exhilarating.

**From: Seungyeon**

Thursday’s great! I know of a really good ice cream place. Let’s meet at 7:00 pm? I’ll drop you home after. _5:42 pm_

It wasn’t the socializing Wheein and Hyejin had envisioned, but Yongsun thought this counted.

The graduate student quickly sent a response to both before putting her phone away for good and listening attentively to Wheein animatedly explaining how she tried to reject someone but somehow ended up agreeing to go out with them instead. Her friends were a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for the delay. I told anyone that would listen to take care of themselves and not get sick, then I got sick.


	25. For Now

Another Instagram picture. It seemed that’s all Moonbyul was doing these days, posting breathtaking pictures of her adventures in Japan. Yongsun was sick of it. It had been almost one full month since she’d last seen her best friend in person and it was wrecking her.

It also served as a bit of a wake-up call. The graduate student knew that she and Byulyi spent a lot of time together, but until now, she hadn’t realized just how dependent she was on the younger girl for her daily dose of physical touching. Yongsun was severely touch deprived. It was driving her mad. Granted, none of what she and Moonbyul did was beyond platonic—she made a mental note to come back to this thought later because she desperately needed to cuddle right now and it dawned on her that she didn’t do that with any of her other friends, just Byulyi—but it met her needs. She was content with what they had and what they did. But now she had nothing because Moonbyul was in Japan, living it up. Ugh.

**yongsun**: We get it, you’re having a great time. Can you hurry up and come home, please?

1m Reply

Maybe Byul was also only now waking up and starting her day by checking all social media sites for updates on whatever there may be updates on because a reply came almost immediately.

**yongsun**: We get it, you’re having a great time. Can you hurry up and come home, please?

1m Reply

|**byulyi** @yongsun You miss me?

|**yongsun** @byulyi Yes 🥺

|**byulyi** @yongsun On my way ✈️ 🛸 🚀 🚁 ⛵ 🚤 🚓 🚊 🚣‍♀️ 🏊‍♀️ 🏄‍♀️ 🏃‍♀️ 🏇

Please. Byulyi was the cutest. The absolute cutest. Yongsun didn’t dare stop the ear-to-ear smile that gradually grew.

|**yongsun** @byulyi You know the apartment code. Let yourself in when you get here.

|**byulyi** @yongsun 😅 🥰

|**hyejin** @byulyi @yongsun Can you two stop, please? This is gross.

|**wheein** @hyejin @byulyi @yongsun I second what Hyejin said.

|**kisum** @wheein @hyejin @byulyi @yongsun I third what Hyejin said.

|**heeyeon** @kisum @wheein @hyejin @byulyi @yongsun idk, it’s kind of cute?

|**wheein** @heeyeon leave

|**hyejin** @heeyeon leave x2

|**kisum** @heeyeon leave x8372728

**From: Hyejinie**

When I said to flirt with people, I didn’t mean with Byul-unnie. Stop. _10:03 am_

Was she flirting with Moonbyul? They were just talking like they normally did. Playing around.

**To: Hyejinie**

I’m not flirting with her? _10:03 am_

**From: Hyejinie**

You are. And she’s flirting back. It’s disgusting. Stop. _10:04 am_

**To: Hyejinie**

You’re overreacting.

It’s not that serious.

That’s how we talk to each other. _10:05 am_

**From: Hyejinie**

You don’t listen. _10:06 am_

**To: Hyejinie**

I’m not doing anything! _10:07 am_

**From: Hyejinie**

k. 🙃 _10:08 am_

She was going to have to talk to Hyejin about this later. Her back and forth with Moonbyul was how they sometimes spoke to each other, and although maybe recently there was a growing part of Yongsun that meant a little bit of what was said, Byulyi was just being Byulyi. Yongsun knew that the younger girl cared for her, that much was obvious, but it was a platonic kind of care. If Moonbyul liked her as more than a friend, she would’ve said or done something about it by now.

Coming to that conclusion stung a bit.

The type of beauty and sensuality that ensnared any and every one? The way Hyejin, Wheein, and even Moonbyul walked into any room and commanded attention and hearts? Yongsun wanted that. It was a bit superficial and slightly embarrassing to admit, even to herself, but it was true. That was something she was realizing and coming to accept. She wanted to be wanted. So, yeah, it stung a bit that it seemed Moonbyul didn’t want her like **that**.

This, of course, led to her questioning everything about herself. Never mind the rational reasons for why the athlete wouldn’t think about her sexually or romantically—the biggest of all being that they were **best friends**, and best friends didn’t usually creep on each other—Yongsun convinced herself it was because she wasn’t attractive enough. They cuddled and hugged and touched more than she’d ever done with any other friend of hers, yet not once had Moonbyul made a move. If she were attractive enough, the athlete wouldn’t be able to resist and would have tried something. But Moonbyul hadn’t, because Yongsun wasn’t. In Yongsun’s mind, it made sense. The logic was foolproof.

**To: Eric**

Am I attractive? _10:17 am_

**From: Eric**

Go to sleep, Yongsun. _10:18 am_

**To: Rongie**

Am I attractive? _10:18 am_

**From: Rongie**

Obviously. _10:18 am_

**To: Rongie**

Am I hot? _10:20 am_

**From: Rongie**

What it seems you are is bored.

Anyway, come out of your room. Made breakfast. _10:21 am_

**To: Wheeinie and Hyejinie**

Am I attractive? _10:18 am_

**From: Hyejinie**

No friend of ours is unattractive. _10:19 am_

**To: Wheeinie and Hyejinie**

Am I hot? _10:21 am_

**From: Wheeinie**

Fishing for compliments.

You’re better than that, unnie. _10:23 am_

Her friends were about tough love, she understood this, but she had hoped her yearning for reassurance in that moment would be clear through her words. It seems that was not the case.

Yongsun was desperate enough to ask Byulyi, and was halfway through drafting the message when another text dropped from the top of her screen:

**From: Seungyeon**

Hey, good morning. Sorry I didn’t respond last night. I fell asleep. Had to be at work earlier than usual today. _10:25 am_

Since their first texts over the weekend, Yongsun and Seungyeon hadn’t stopped messaging each other. They weren’t texting each other nonstop, all day long—both had lives to live—but communication was constant, both doing their part to maintain the conversation.

Despite being the same age, the two weren’t close during their time at SKKU, only first interacting during their senior year when Yongsun became manager of the Women’s Basketball Team. Seungyeon was the captain. She was also in a relationship at the time, so, outside of official team trainings and events, most of her time was spent doing relationship things with her partner. It wasn’t like Yongsun spent much time with the team outside of her required duties either. They were cordial when around each other, though, and when she was around, Seungyeon did her best to make sure Yongsun felt included.

Reconnecting now was nostalgic. It felt **good** building out a potential friendship with someone from her past life—that was a bit dramatic, but Yongsun had a flair for the dramatic at times. Her life in Seoul right now consisted solely of SNU and her family. Adding another layer would serve her well.

**To: Seungyeon**

No worries.

What do you do for work? _10:38 am_

**From: Seungyeon**

I work in marketing at an e-sports startup. _10:39 am_

That sounds exciting. _10:40 am_

It is. I love it.

Weeks like this week tho? Hate.

Going to be busy until the weekend. _10:41 am_

We could always reschedule our meeting tomorrow.

Sounds like you should rest. _10:45 am_

Please no. Meeting w/ you is the only bright spot. _10:46 am_

If you say so. _10:47 am_

I say so lol. _10:50 am_

I guess that’s settled then lol. _10:51 am_

*

When the decision to dye her hair was first made, Yongsun was content with doing it at home. She’d seen several YouTube videos of people purchasing products at beauty supply stores and doing everything on their own. The results, for the most part, were perfect. They made it look easy. The steps were always easy to follow and, having always viewed herself as capable, Yongsun figured she’d be fine.

During a phone call with Yonghee earlier in the week, her older sister asked about plans for the week ahead. Yongsun happened to mention that she’d be dying her hair on Wednesday.

_“You’re an idiot.”_

It seemed that was all she would have said about the subject had Yongsun not dug deeper into what exactly the problem with her plan was.

_“Why am I an idiot?”_

_“You’re going to dye your hair on your own?”_

_“Yeah. What’s wrong with that? I’ve watched a ton of videos that explained everything.” Yonghee’s reaction seemed excessive. _

_“What color are you dying your hair?”_

_“Blonde.”_

_“You’re an idiot.”_

_“Again, I ask: why am I an idiot?”_

_She still didn’t get a proper answer._

_“I’m going to call a friend of mine. She’s a hairstylist. I’ll call you back later.” With that, the line went dead._

_Her sister could be so frustrating at times. Yes, she was older, but Yongsun wasn’t some helpless little kid. The way Yonghee dealt with her at times was as if she was incompetent. It irked her. When her sister called her back, Yongsun would have a word with her._

_Half an hour later, Yongsun’s phone rang. Yonghee._

_“My friend is booked on Wednesday but she’s going to take you during her lunch. Because you’re my sister, she’s giving you a discount. I’ll go with you. Will text you the details.”_

_As with earlier, the line went dead._

_It was funny how Yongsun had never before said a bad word about Yonghee. Literally the best sibling to ever walk this planet._

**Yongsun to: Byulyi & Her Fan Club**

At a fancy hair salon!

I love Yonghee 💁‍ _1:15 pm_

**Hyejinie**

Oh! Forgot that that’s today. _1:16 pm_

**Wheeinie**

Can’t wait to see the final result! _1:17 pm_

**Yongsun**

I’m nervous but super excited. _1:17 pm_

**Wheeinie**

You’ll look great. _1:19 pm_

**Hyejinie**

You’re welcome for the idea btw _1:20 pm_

**Yongsun**

Thank you, Hyejin and Wheein for the idea 💞 _1:21 pm_

**Byul-ah**

? _1:25 pm_

**Wheeinie**

Unnie, you didn’t tell her?

LOL _1:27 pm_

**Yongsun**

Byul-ah: It’s a secret.

Wheein: change the group name back, pls. _1:30 pm_

Yongsun had to give most of the credit to the young girls. Before they left for Jeonju, they posited that a change in Yongsun’s physical appearance would perfectly complement her new “attitude”. She wasn’t exactly sure what physical change they would recommend—knowing them, it could be anything—but had contemplated dying her hair in the past, although never seriously. Thinking it the perfect time to bring it up to the group, Yongsun asked for their thoughts on changing her hair. Wheein and Hyejin loved the idea and immediately concluded that blonde would be her color. It was even more perfect, they said, because Moonbyul had just recently posted a picture of her newly dyed hair. She was a brunette now.

_“It’s perfect,” Hyejin said. “Now that she’s brunette, you going blonde would be hilarious. Also, you’d look great as a blonde.”_

Checking out the final result in the handheld mirror that the hairstylist offered her, Yongsun gasped.

“Yongsun, you look phenomenal,” Yonghee exclaimed.

If Yonghee was saying that, it meant it looked **great**, and Yongsun couldn’t disagree. She looked good. More than good. She looked hot. And that was the first time she’d **ever** called herself that.

Confidence flowing through her, Yongsun couldn’t hide her smile for the rest of the day.

This was going to be a fun school year.

*

**From: Byul-ah**

Yong.

Yong.

Yong.

Yong. _7:01 pm_

She’d been doing this ever since Yongsun mentioned her visit to the salon the day before.

**To: Byul-ah**

What? _7:01 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

Send me a pic.

Pretty please? 🥺 _7:02 pm_

Byul-ah. I’m out right now. _7:02 pm_

Perfect. That means your hair’s done.

Send me a pic. _7:03 pm_

I’ll text you later.

Words. I’ll text words. Not a pic. _7:03 pm_

Moonbyul was cute, but she was also annoying sometimes. In addition to the incessant text messages begging for pictures of her new hairstyle, the athlete had tried spontaneously video calling Yongsun several times. It was excessive. There were only three more days until her return. Yongsun had promised that she’d reveal her hair then. Instead, Byulyi continued pestering her as if that would suddenly make Yongsun cave.

“Sorry I’m late.”

So caught up in her amusement over Moonbyul’s antics was the graduate student, she hadn’t even noticed Seungyeon’s arrival.

“Hey!” She stood to hug the girl. They’d been talking for days now and knew each other in college. That was grounds for hugging, right? Halfway over to Seungyeon, Yongsun started doubting if she was being presumptuous by imposing her hug on the other woman, resulting in an awkward arms-up-then-down-then-up-again routine. Thankfully, Seungyeon enthusiastically opened her arms to receive Yongsun.

They’d never hugged before, but Seungyeon was a great hugger. Maybe it was her height—she was tall, taller than Moonbyul even—or the length of her arms. Whatever it was, her hug was solid. It felt great. She wrapped Yongsun up completely.

“Again, my apologies for the tardiness. Got caught up at work.”

“No worries. It’s only a few minutes, I wasn’t waiting long.”

“I feel a bit better then. Let’s leave our things at this table so that no one takes it, then we can go order.”

Yongsun did as she was told. Something about Seungyeon made her someone that people listened to without questions. She’d been like that in college, too, which was probably why she was the captain, but the taller girl had grown into herself over the past couple years. She had a commanding presence. It was attractive. Yongsun liked it. Then again, Seungyeon was attractive. Objectively. There was no questioning that.

Making their way to the counter at a leisurely pace, the two made small talk, not wanting to get into anything too substantial before being seated. They talked about the weather—it was August and hot—and about their excitement over getting ice cream—they were both excited.

Seungyeon insisted that Yongsun order first, so she did. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to decide on which flavors she wanted to try, but she eventually settled on salted caramel and vanilla. Her card was almost into the cashier’s hand when Seungyeon’s voice rang out, “Oh, no. We’re together. It’s on me.”

“Ah, okay. Sorry,” the cashier said.

Yongsun just stood there. They hadn’t discussed that. They’d agreed on Seungyeon giving Yongsun a ride home afterwards, but that was it. Still, she was grateful. It was a nice gesture by Seungyeon, but she’d have to wait a bit to thank her as the taller woman was still at the other end of the ice cream bar making her selection.

The blonde took the opportunity to take everything in. Seungyeon was hot. When she had first arrived, Yongsun acknowledged her attractiveness. They’d followed each other’s social media accounts so the graduate student knew what to expect, but seeing her in person made a significant difference. The way she moved, the commanding tone of her voice, the way she held eye contact, it was all a lot to take in.

Even the way she wore her clothes was noteworthy. Seungyeon’s outfit was simple: short-sleeved white button-up tucked into loose grey‑plaid slacks with a dark brown belt, but she made the outfit look chic. The top three buttons of her blouse were undone, allowing a tattoo on her right collarbone to peek out. Voluminous, long, dark brown hair perfectly framed her round face. Striking, almond-shaped eyes. Perfectly plump lips. Yongsun had thought it before, but it bore repeating: Seungyeon was hot. This was not a realization she had expected. This meeting was supposed to be a friendly reunion, and she was determined to keep it as such. Just because her acquaintance looked good didn’t mean she had to act on anything. Right then and there, Yongsun decided that she wouldn’t. She wasn’t going to make things weird. This was Wheein and Hyejin’s fault. Ever since they began conditioning her to find people attractive, she couldn’t stop. Example, her creeping on Seungyeon from afar. A mess.

“I paid for everything, we can go sit.”

“Oh,” Yongsun got out of her own head. “Thank you for the ice cream, by the way,” she shyly said.

“No problem. I like their stuff, but everyone’s different, so in the event you’re not a fan of it, I didn’t want you to have to spend money on it.”

“What about if I end up loving it?”

“Then . . . I treated you to some great ice cream,” Seungyeon laughed, stuffing a spoonful info her mouth. “How is yours? Have you tried it yet?”

“It’s really good. Much better than I expected.”

“This place is great. I come here about once a week. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Why? It’s okay to treat yourself occasionally.”

“Next time I’m debating on whether I should buy a sweet treat or not, I’ll call you for encouragement.”

“And I’ll gladly offer my encouragement. Plus, all those sweets don’t show. You look great.”

“Thank you. It takes a lot more effort these days to stay in shape. I’m losing it.”

“Losing what?” Yongsun asked.

“My body. My youth. It’s all fading so quickly.”

“Seungyeon, I never knew you were this much of a drama queen. You look amazing. Stop,” she chuckled.

“If you say it, I’ll believe it. I love your hair, by the way. Is it new? None of your pictures on Instagram had you with blonde hair.”

“It’s very new. Got it done yesterday afternoon.”

“Wow. It looks great. It fits you very well.”

“Thank you! I was nervous, but I’m happy with how it turned out.”

“You should be. It looks great. I know I keep saying that, but it’s because it looks **that** good.”

An hour and a half flew by before they both knew it. Initially nervous that they’d run out of conversation topics, Yongsun was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to chat with Seungyeon. They shared stories about their days in college and shared stories about their current lives. It seemed that Seungyeon could very well become a good friend.

“I feel bad, I’ve been talking your ear off for almost two hours,” Seungyeon started. “You probably have someone at home watching the clock and waiting for you to return safely.” Was she . . . fishing for information?

“No. Just my roommate, but she doesn’t keep tabs on me like that. What about you?” She had a girlfriend while they were in school. Only two years had passed since then. It was possible they were still together.

“Nope. Just my cat.”

Yongsun hummed her acknowledgement.

“She’s cute, though, so I can’t be too sad about it. Anyway, we should really get going. I don’t want to keep you out any later.”

The walk to Seungyeon’s car was quick, the silence comfortable. The taller girl helped Yongsun get settled before entering on the driver’s side and inputting the address for University Village into the GPS. Nothing else of note happened on the way back, but when they pulled up to the front of UV, Seungyeon stopped Yongsun before she left the car.

“I almost forgot, Sirae was jealous that I was meeting up with you today. She and I are meeting up on Tuesday for drinks after work and she told me to invite you. You don’t have to answer now, but let me know whenever.”

“She was jealous?” Yongsun put no effort into hiding how puzzled she was.

“Yeah. The two of us always wanted to get close to you because we were all the same age, but we didn’t know how. I wasn’t around much because of my girlfriend and she’s very shy, so it was a lost cause.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because it’s surprising.”

“Well, it’s the truth. But we’re all in the same city again, which is great, because I need more non-work friends.”

“I’d love to be one of your non-work friends.”

“That’s perfect, because I’d love for you to be one of my non-work friends.”

Hearing Seungyeon say that so casually was heartwarming.

“Okay, I’ll let you go. For real this time.”

“Thank you for tonight. I had a **really** good time.”

“Me, too. I’ll have to thank Eric for reaching out and giving me your number.”

“He did something useful for once.”

“That he did.”

Before Yongsun could stress over whether to hug Seungyeon goodbye or not, the brunette reached over the console to pull her into a parting embrace.

“Text me when you get to your room.”

“Will do.”

*

Saturday was boring. Everything about it was boring.

Wheein and Hyejin were still in Jeonju and Chorong had gone out with the ’91ers. Of course, Yongsun could have joined, but Jinyoung would be there and no matter how amicable of a breakup they had, she wasn’t yet ready to socialize with her ex. Not even one month had passed since their breakup. It was nothing personal, she just needed to do her own thing for a bit before hanging around him again.

It was as if excess energy inside of her was clawing to get out. Not even watching movies was comforting for her in the moment, and that **always** did the trick. Remembering the way Seungyeon had joked about having to put in more effort to stay in shape, Yongsun suddenly thought of the gym located in the lobby of UV’s first tower. It was across the hall from the game room in the lounge, but was the one room in UV she had never utilized.

Figuring she had nothing to lose, Yongsun hopped off her bed and threw on the one sports bra she owned, a t-shirt, and some shorts, before heading for the gym. If she hated it, she could leave right away.

**To: Seungyeon**

Random, but your talk on Thursday inspired me to go to the gym. _11:19 pm_

**From: Seungyeon**

On a Saturday night? _11:21 pm_

**To: Seungyeon**

That tells you everything there is to know about my Saturday. _11:22 pm_

**From: Seungyeon**

Well, doing better than me.

I’m out drinking :-/ _11:24 pm_

**To: Seungyeon**

You deserve it. You’ve had a rough work week. _11:25 pm_

**From: Seungyeon**

You’re so supportive.

I’ll drink a shot of water in your honor. _11:26 pm_

**To: Seungyeon**

😂 Goodnight.

Have fun. Be safe. _11:27 pm_

**From: Seungyeon**

You, too 😊 _11:29 pm_

By the time their conversation had concluded, Yongsun had already been on the stationary bicycle for four minutes. She had no particular goals, she was pedaling for the sake of pedaling. That lasted about twenty more minutes.

She wasn’t tired, not even close, but she was still bored. There was no one else in the gym and the room was full of complicated looking equipment that she had no idea how to use. Five more minutes. She’d do five more minutes before calling it a night and heading back up to her room.

Just then, a handsome man entered. She’d seen him around UV before, usually in the management office. They had many students work there. Maybe he was a student. He was **buff**. Yongsun was intrigued. Not because of how handsome he was—he was very handsome—but because she assumed he’d do a fancy workout that would require use of the complicated equipment that she knew nothing about. If she watched him for a while, there was a chance she’d learn some exercises to be attempted the next time she ventured down here.

Pretending to not pay attention to him proved challenging. It was only the two of them in the average-sized room and the bicycles were directly facing the part of the gym he was using. He was so wrapped up in his warm-up routine, though—it lasted fifteen minutes—that he didn’t notice her eyes boring into him. Eventually, the stretches were completed and he took his time heading over to a long metal bar. Yongsun was fascinated. He did several squats with only the bar before piling weights onto it. With ease, he continued doing a series of squats, always gradually adding more weight. Is this what Byulyi did as part of her training? She always talked about being in the gym, but Yongsun never knew the extent of her workouts, she just knew that the basketball player was exceptionally fit and strong.

The guy kept squatting and lifting heavy weights and, before she knew it, Yongsun had left the bicycle and wandered over to him. It took a few moments, but he eventually noticed her. The bar was placed back in its rack and he removed his wireless headphones.

“Is something wrong?” The voice was sweet and gentle. A surprise to her.

“No.”

“Is there something I can help you with then?”

Honestly, she was making a nuisance of herself, but when else would she have this opportunity?

“I was wondering if you could help me work out. You look like you know what you’re doing, and I don’t, so . . . yeah.” It probably would have helped if she thought this out further.

“You want me to teach you how to work out?” His eyes were kind and the way his face contorted, it seemed like he was taking her request seriously.

“Yes, please. I came down here with no goals in mind, but now I have a desire to learn how to use these machines properly.”

“Well, I don’t use a lot of machines. A few of them, yes, but not a lot of them. Bodyweight and free weight exercises comprise most of my workouts. If that’s fine with you, I’d be able to help you out.”

“That would be great. Thank you so much!” This was going much better than she anticipated.

“I’m Ok Taecyeon. What is your name?”

“I’m Yongsun. Kim Yongsun.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Yongsun-ssi.”

“Likewise. Are you an SNU student?”

“No. I’m actually in graduate school at KU, but I work full-time in the management office and the job comes with housing, so I live here instead of closer to KU.”

“That’s cool. I’m in graduate school at SNU.”

“Really? You have a baby face. I thought you were an undergraduate student.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one,” he laughed, showcasing his dimples for the first time. Overall, a delightful person.

Taecyeon cracked down after they introduced themselves to each other. He walked Yongsun through a proper warmup before they moved into the actual workout.

“We’ll have to figure out what you want to accomplish in the long run, but for today, you can just do what I do. I’m working legs, which most people hate, but it’s my favorite.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all we can ever do.”

Yongsun’s best ended up being not great at all. It was embarrassing to have Taecyeon encouraging her, but to be physically unable to do more than a few repetitions of each exercise. A humbling experience, for sure, but also a motivating one. As they progressed with the workout, the blonde grew more determined to outdo herself—it was her only option as there would never be a day that she would outdo Taecyeon.

Drenched in sweat and already feeling the soreness settle into her muscles, Yongsun internally did a fist pump when Taecyeon announced that they had reached the end of their session.

“Let’s exchange numbers. That way I can let you know when I’ll be down here. Honestly, I usually prefer later at night because it’s emptier.”

“I’m usually free at night, so that works.”

“Cool! Don’t feel pressured to come down here every day just because I’m here every day. After a few workouts, you’ll see that it’s a lot of the same exercises, so you’ll get to the point where you won’t even need me.”

“Um, no, I doubt that day will come. I will absolutely need you,” Yongsun clarified right away.

“I may have gotten a bit ahead of myself. That’s fine, too. It’ll be nice having a workout buddy.”

Workout buddies. She’d stumbled her way into having a workout buddy and she couldn’t be happier about it.

*

The weather outside perfectly matched Yongsun’s mood upon waking up. Beams of sunlight filtered in, illuminating her bedroom. The sky was clear and the humidity, which had been overbearing the past few days, had calmed, giving way to a refreshing August Sunday. The blonde felt great. Not even the struggle to move her legs put a damper on her spirits. Nothing could shake her—Byulyi was coming back today. Finally.

Reaching to her left and searching her sheets for her phone, she texted her best friend.

**To: Byul-ah**

What time do you get home today? _10:56 am_

They’d briefly discussed Moonbyul’s return, but in her excitement, Yongsun forgot to ask for details.

**From: Byul-ah**

Secret. Just like your hair. _11:00 am_

**To: Byul-ah**

Okay. _11:00 am_

It was amazing how petty the younger girl could be, but after a year of friendship, Yongsun was better equipped in dealing with her antics.

**To: Heeyeon**

Hi, Heeyeon. What time is Byulyi supposed to arrive at UV today? _11:02 am_

**From: Heeyeon**

Hi, unnie! 9:30 pm. Her family is dropping her off. _11:03 am_

**To: Byul-ah**

See you at 9:30 pm. _11:05 am_

**From: Byul-ah**

Heeyeon 🤬 _11:06 am_

**To: Byul-ah**

🤪 _11:06 am_

*

“I’m surprised you agreed to join me today on such short notice.”

“Truthfully, I wasn’t going to. My legs are dead from last night, but I enjoyed the energy that I had afterwards. I also thought about it before going to bed: I want to get into better shape. I like the idea of pushing myself and my body to new limits. I’m trying to challenge myself in other parts of my life right now, so I want to challenge myself in this way, too.”

“Well, you did a great job challenging yourself today. It’s never easy when first starting to work out consistently, but you take instruction very well.”

“Thanks, Taecyeon.”

“Want to head to the mart and grab a meal? I think we’ve both earned it.”

“Would love that. I’m **so** hungry.”

Yongsun’s original plan for Sunday was to lounge in her room and wait until Moonbyul returned. That quickly changed when Taecyeon pinged her about working out. In addition to wanting to push herself and take her fitness more seriously, Yongsun was touched by Taecyeon taking the initiative to include her in his plans. He didn’t have to, at all, especially with how suddenly she sprung herself on him, but he took everything in stride. She was grateful.

Their ensuing meal was a lot of fun. Yongsun had seen Taecyeon around UV before, but she would’ve never thought him to be as pleasant as he was revealing himself to be. The muscles and strong jawline belied his playful personality. The two shared life stories while chomping on their chicken sandwiches—protein post-workouts was **key** apparently. That’s what Taecyeon said. Hearing his life’s journey up until now made her appreciate the KU student even more. He was a hard worker. Be it coming back from injuries, enrolling in the military earlier than he needed to, or figuring out his studies, Taecyeon seemed to always find a way to overcome the obstacles he faced. He was a good man and potentially a good new friend.

*

**From: Byul-ah**

I’m back or whatever 🙄 _9:45 pm_

She had been waiting. Upon returning from lunch with Taecyeon, the graduate student showered **and** washed her hair. She tried to pass the remaining time by watching a movie, but it didn’t hold her attention. She and Chorong hung out for a bit, but her roommate left her to her own devices, growing tired of how “distracted” Yongsun was.

Her legs burned and her arms were sore, but when the text notification from Byulyi appeared on her screen, Yongsun didn’t let any of her physical discomfort stop her from running the fastest she ever had in her life.

The blonde’s fist connected firmly with the beige-colored door a couple times before it swung open, revealing in all her glory, Moon Byulyi. Not even the athlete’s cocky, crooked smirk could ruin the moment. Yongsun was ecstatic. Her best friend was back.

Ignoring her body’s protests, Yongsun launched herself into Byulyi’s arms. It was a foregone conclusion that the athlete would catch her. With her arms and legs wrapped tightly around the taller girl, Yongsun sighed contentedly into Moonbyul’s neck.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“Oh, yeah?” Byul arrogantly questioned.

“Stop,” Yongsun smacked the back of her neck. “I’m being serious.”

“I know. I missed you, too. A lot,” Moonbyul responded sincerely.

“Don’t leave for that long again.”

“Not sure I have control over that.”

“Byul-ah, don’t leave for that long again.”

“Okay,” the younger girl chuckled lightly as she tenderly held Yongsun’s neck with her right hand. “I won’t leave my Yongsunnie for that long again.”

The two of them stayed by the apartment door, lost in their own little world, simply enjoying being with each other like this again.

*

“I thought your parents were going to be here.”

“They dropped me off and then left. Can you believe that?”

“I can. You’ve been back for a few minutes and the novelty is already wearing off. Can’t imagine how tired they must have been after spending a whole week with you.”

Yongsun had to give it to Byul, the athlete had grown stealthier. There were no signs to prepare Yongsun for the nimble fingers that attacked her stomach.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She breathlessly cried out. “It was a joke!”

“You’re not sorry, you just want me to stop tickling you.”

Another minute passed of the two jockeying for position on the couch. Yongsun ended up on her stomach, trying her best to block the younger girl’s efforts; Byulyi somehow ended up on top of her, relentless in her attack.

“You win! You win. Please,” the blonde conceded through gasps. “I’m sore. I can’t take more.”

“Fine. I’ll pity you this time,” Moonbyul eased off of her. “Why are you sore?”

“You’ve missed a lot! I have a whole new life now,” Yongsun proclaimed, still trying to catch her breath.”

“I can see that,” Byul ran her fingers through the graduate student’s blonde locks.

“You didn’t say if you like it or not, by the way.”

“I love it. You look beautiful.”

Maybe it was the time away from each other, but everything felt more intense now. The way Byulyi held her gaze, the way she spoke to her, it all felt . . . different. Pushing all of **that** aside, Yongsun cleared her throat, hoping that would also help clear the air.

“Thank you,” she softly accepted the compliment. “But yeah, a whole new life. I made some new friends while you were gone and I even started working out.”

The pride was clear in her voice and she made no efforts to tone it down.

“Wow. A lot of big changes. When did you start working out?”

“Yesterday,” Yongsun laughed. That led to her divulging the details of her awkward—due solely to her actions—encounter with Taecyeon.

“You creepily stared at a man working out, then you approached him and creepily stared at him until he noticed you, then you asked him to train you?”

“Yeah. And it worked!”

“You’re so strange sometimes.”

“Honestly, yeah.” Yongsun grabbed Moonbyul’s face and playfully shook it from side to side, “But you like my strangeness, so it’s okay.”

“Unfortunately, I do, yeah.”

“You mean fortunately. I’m the most exciting part of your life.”

“I literally just got back from the Olympics . . .”

“I said what I said.”

They sat on the couch catching up for a couple more hours. Byul gave Yongsun the present she brought back for her—it was a bracelet. The athlete had purchased one for herself, too. The idea, she said, was for them to have something that matched, because after a year of friendship, they still had nothing to commemorate their relationship. Maybe Yongsun’s heart skipped a beat or two.

A huge yawn escaped her suddenly.

“I’m boring you?”

“No. I’m just tired. It’s time for me leave. Didn’t notice it was after midnight already.” Standing to make her way to the door, Byul immediately grabbed her hand.

“Just spend the night,” she urged with a low, slightly raspy voice.

“I want to sleep in my own bed, Byulyi.”

“Yong. Please?”

It wasn’t even her smooth voice that made the blonde crumble, it was the cute pout adorning the younger girl’s face.

Looking to hide how eager she, too, was to cuddle with Byul, Yongsun dramatically rolled her eyes before conceding. “Fine.”

“Good. Come.”

They’d done this countless times. There was nothing new about it. Moonbyul led Yongsun to her room, they got in the younger girl’s bed, and the athlete spooned her from behind. They’d done it **so** many times, yet this was the first time Yongsun questioned what exactly it was they were doing.

None of her other friendships felt like her friendship with Byulyi. She did things with the athlete that she didn’t do with her other friends. She was emotionally honest and vulnerable with the younger girl in ways she had never been with anyone else. All of this Yongsun had acknowledged before.

It was the things she did with both Byulyi **and** her other friends that kept her up thinking that night, though. Because Chorong holding her every once in a blue moon was drastically different from cuddling every other day with Moonbyul. Listening to Wheein or Hyejin talk about a crush of theirs felt very different from listening to Moonbyul talk about girls she had dated or was interested in. And it was only now, as she was exploring her attraction to others, that the older girl understood the physical reactions she’d been having for some time now when around her best friend.

As she lay with the brunette at her back, Yongsun could say with certainty that she was attracted to Byulyi. It was a fairly anticlimactic realization, mostly because she’d been reflecting on it for almost a month, but also because at this point in her life, she had no desire to act on the attraction she felt. There was still no evidence that Moonbyul was attracted to her or saw her as anything other than a friend. The last they spoke about it, the athlete said there was no one she liked or wanted to date. There was also the fact that the two were best friends. Yongsun pursued something with a friend once before and it didn’t work out. She didn’t even want to think about the potential fallout if she made a move on Byul and completely ruined their friendship.

“I missed holding you like this,” Byulyi suddenly murmured into Yongsun’s hair as her grip on the older girl’s waist tightened. All Yongsun could do was laugh internally at how funny this all was. Absolutely hilarious.

Right now, no good would come from acting on her attraction. The best she could do was acknowledge that the attraction existed. She’d done that. That was enough. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being sick threw off my writing schedule, which threw off my posting schedule. I think things should be back to normal, but I don’t want to promise and then not deliver. Thank you to everyone for the patience and well wishes. I’m feeling much better. Apologies for not responding to and upvoting comments from the last chapter.
> 
> Cannot explain the relief I’m feeling over this chapter. Yongsun’s building out her life and Byul is back. Chunks of later chapters are written/planned out and, from how things are organized at the moment, this chapter is the final hurdle before the fun begins (well, fun for me, maybe not so much for most of you)! Thank goodness. Sincere gratitude to all of you for reading.


	26. Nice. Cool. Fun. Awesome.

The week after returning from Japan was the only peace Byul came to know for months. Her senior year of college snuck up on her, grabbed her by the throat, and hadn’t eased up since.

Academics weren’t even the issue—her classes were manageable this semester. With the summer courses she’d taken the past couple of years, including the two online classes she completed this past summer, Byulyi only had four classes left to complete over her next two semesters. The thought of taking all four in the Fall had crossed her mind, but to stay eligible for athletics, students had to be at least part-time, meaning at least 2 classes each semester. What that meant big picture was that compared to her peers, the senior had a lot of time not spent in class. Most other undergraduates were taking four to seven classes at a time.

All of this to reinforce that academics were not her main stressor this year. It was everything outside of the classroom that, from the first week of the new school year, gripped her.

For starters, Byul was physically tired. Exhausted, even. Yongsun had asked her about this over the summer, asked if she would be okay with the quick turnaround from high-level international basketball into training for the college basketball season. At the time, she’d waved off the older girl’s concerns.

At the time, she felt on top of the world.

At the time, she was at the Olympics, playing well and learning a lot. It was fine then. However, after the brief family vacation in Japan and the week of downtime upon her return to SNU, Moonbyul began a rigorous individual training regimen—the summer taught her that to take her game to the next level, she needed to be stronger, faster, and more skilled. Although official team training began in October, she was committed to her own pre-season training throughout September, holding herself to two sessions each day—one for weightlifting and the other for basketball-specific drills. Able to keep up at first, the senior was beginning to feel the aftereffects of having put herself through the ring as she had.

There were additional basketball responsibilities this year, too. Most people expected it, but it was officially announced at the start of the school year that Byulyi would be the sole captain of the team this year. A huge honor bestowed upon her by the coaches and team, but also a new source of stress. She had never been a vocal leader, preferring instead to lead by example, lead from the back. While she could still set the tone by modeling proper behavior in accordance with the culture of SNU Basketball, Byul knew she’d have to push herself to speak up and be more proactive about organizing team events that facilitated bonding and cohesiveness. Heeyeon was an invaluable resource when it came to this, sharing a lot about her experience as a captain and helping Moonbyul brainstorm ways to reconcile being a peer **and** a firm leader that held people accountable.

Business school applications also had to be dealt with. Although not due until January, Byulyi was serious about presenting a well-curated portfolio to admissions teams. She’d narrowed down the list of schools she was interested in and put a lot of energy into networking with alumni and administrators. The intention was to learn more about her programs of interest while leaving a positive, lasting impression on each person she meant. She hoped that the connections cultivated came back to benefit her in the long run.

Then there was Yongsun.

At every step of the way, the graduate student did things that, to others, might have seemed small or insignificant but made a world of difference to Moonbyul. For starters, Yongsun introduced Byul to yoga. A few weeks into her weight training with Taecyeon, the blonde picked up the new activity in hopes that it would help improve her flexibility and form when lifting. Of course, she eventually forced Byul to try and, of course, the athlete went along with it. She found yoga to help tremendously with recovering from her own brutal workouts. Watching Yongsun stretch and twist and bend wasn’t half bad either.

When she was exhausted after a day of pushing herself to her physical limits, Yongsun would come over—because Byul was serious about limiting her time at Yongsun’s apartment due to Chorong’s presence—make sure Byulyi ate properly, ask about her day, then hold her head in her lap, sometimes massaging her scalp until Byulyi was close to falling asleep.

When Moonbyul needed to vent or talk through something related to her role as captain, Yongsun would listen attentively and provide a fresh perspective on how to possibly navigate the situation. When it came to business school, Yongsun read and edited every single draft of Byul’s application. She, too, exhausted her network, looking for potential connections she could help Moonbyul make with business school administrators.

Yongsun helped with **everything**. Made **everything** better, more manageable. Yet she was still Byul’s biggest stressor. And by biggest stressor, she meant biggest. Number one source of stress. Top of the list.

While the senior spent September and much of October managing everything on her plate, Yongsun spent that time “living her best single life”—that’s what Hyejin had once called it when they were all together and the youngest girls were asking the graduate student for “updates” on “things”.

_“Why are you talking in code?”_

_“I’m not,” Hyejin sassed. “I very clearly asked unnie what I needed to ask her.”_

_“Okay, but that was super vague. Why not just ask her outright whatever it is you need to ask her?” The brunette calmly asked with a head resting in Yongsun’s lap and legs elevated on the couch arm. The two of them spent a lot of time in this position—masking how giddy it made her each time was becoming increasingly more difficult for Byulyi._

_All four were gathered at Moonbyul and Heeyeon’s apartment on a rather mundane Sunday in September. They had done their own things the night before and decided that spending the day together would help them reset and recharge for the week ahead._

_As for whatever Hyejin was being cryptic about, the athlete **knew** it had to do with Yongsun’s efforts to expand her social circle. It was no secret that the older girl was going out more often. Although never divulging too many details with Moonbyul about what exactly was going on during her nights out, the graduate student wasn’t shy about how determined she was to build out that part of her life. Judging by the growing number of new names camped out under her tweets and Instagram pictures, Yongsun was meeting new people and making new friends—the nights out were working. Byulyi didn’t much mind, though. Their time together wasn’t significantly impacted so she was fine with it._

_“You know what, you’re right, Byul-unnie. I’ll be more direct. Yongsun-unnie, any update on you living your best single life and hooking up with hot people?”_

_Normally, the blonde would’ve immediately thrown a small fit and told Hyejin to stop being so ridiculous. She would’ve denied it. That didn’t happen this time. Instead, Wheein jumped in to make a joke about . . . something. Or maybe she didn’t make a joke? Wheein said something and the three of them continued on about whatever they chose to talk about. Byul didn’t know. She wasn’t paying attention._

_Closing her brown eyes, the athlete sank into Yongsun’s touch—she had begun aimlessly playing with Moonbyul’s brown locks—and processed what had just been dropped on her: Yongsun was hooking up with people._

_Nice. _

_Cool. _

_Fun._

_Awesome._

She hadn’t been the same since. Later that same day, the two of them found a moment alone and Yongsun clarified that she wasn’t actually “hooking up with a bunch of people,” but rather, putting her flirting skills to the test. Byul desperately wanted to believe it, but the fact that it took her friend so long to clear that up made it difficult. If that was truly the case, why didn’t she say it when Hyejin first brought the topic up? And what exactly did “putting flirting skills to the test” even mean? The whole thing left her with more questions than answers, questions she didn’t dare ask in fear of the answers.

The thought of Yongsun flirting with random people wasn’t the only thing Byul couldn’t get past. Yongsun’s body. It was ridiculous. It was stressing her out. Taecyeon’s workouts had to be sent from above because the results were . . . unbelievable. In only a couple of months, Yongsun had toned up. The lap that supported Byulyi’s head most nights became firmer, the legs that peeked out from the shorts and oversized t-shirts or sweatshirts that Yongsun preferred to wear when in UV gradually became more defined.

Moonbyul had always found Yongsun beautiful. That eventually evolved into her having romantic feelings for the older girl. But now, with the **body** that Yongsun had, Byulyi **wanted** her. Badly. And she felt horrible about it because this was her best friend. People weren’t supposed to creep on and lust after their best friends, yet here she was creeping on and lusting after her best friend. It didn’t help that Yongsun was always **touching** her. None of the touching was new. It was all stuff the older girl had done before, things Moonbyul was accustomed to—a sudden hand on her stomach, a head resting on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist if they were lounging around. The reactions ignited, though? Byulyi was not yet accustomed to them.

Attempts to course-correct fell flat. Whenever the athlete found a situation especially unbearable—typically when Yongsun tried to get her way by being handsy and pouty—Byulyi would get stern with her, tell her to stop and flat out say no to whatever was being requested. That only seemed to motivate the blonde to touch her even more. It was helpless. Byul was suffering and there was no solution. At any given moment Moonbyul felt as if she’d combust. She was losing her mind.

Of course, the fact that she hadn’t had sex in five months wasn’t helping either. The senior was tightly wound with no prospect of release any time soon. It was cruel.

Heeyeon never missed an opportunity to rib her for it.

_“If I were a gambler, I’d 100% put all my money on SNU winning a championship again this year,” the taller girl suddenly shared one day._

_“Oh yeah? Why’s that? We have more rookies this year, so it’ll be a bigger challenge, but I think we can do it.” Byul loved basketball conversations. It seemed like Heeyeon was setting the stage for a serious conversation about player personnel and tactics._

_“Your forearms,” Heeyeon giggled._

_“Huh?”_

_“Because of your forearms. You have stronger forearms this year. Rock solid.”_

_“What are you talking about?” It was late, Moonbyul was tired. She wasn’t in the mood for Heeyeon’s riddles._

_“You have stronger forearms so people won’t be able to get you off the ball as easily. You’ll be more in control.”_

_“I have stronger forearms? What the fuck are you talking about?”_

_“All that masturbating you do. Your forearms have to be strong as hell by now, no? Or do you only use your right hand?”_

_“Fuck off,” Byulyi scoffed and shook her head at her roommate’s crass joke before retiring to her bedroom for the night._

Memories of the past month and a half were cut short as the team trainer dug into an especially tight knot in her left calf.

“Ah! Yujin, that hurt!” Her whiny words tumbled into the pillow her face was pressed into.

“If you stretched properly before training and stuck to the daily routine I created for you, there’d be nothing to complain about,” the much older woman chided Byul, all while digging further into the stubborn mass of muscle that stood between her and the rest of her Saturday.

“I stretch properly every day and before practice,” the senior argued. “Ask anyone, I foam roll and everything.”

“For two minutes on each body part?” Yujin’s skepticism annoyed Moonbyul, but also filled her with shame. She didn’t roll out for nearly that long—maybe half a minute at most. Her tight muscles were a telltale sign of that.

“I foam roll,” she flatly responded.

“Mmhmm. I don’t want to hear you crying to me if you get hurt. You’ve put on more muscle weight. Proper stretching and warming up is critical to your body holding up for the whole season.”

“I’ll be more serious about it,” Byul sulked.

“Turn over.”

Moonbyul did as instructed and tried her best to relax as Yujin finished massaging legs. Ten minutes later, another command was barked at her.

“Alright, get up. Time for the NormaTec*. By the way, might want to check your phone. Someone’s been calling you nonstop.”

Byul had a habit of setting her phone to silent when the team had practice. She hated leaving it behind in the locker room, especially since she tended to use it to play music while she got shots up before practice started. Making the walk all the way back to the locker room to store it away seemed pointless, so she’d put it on silent and leave it with Yooa, their new team manager this year. The only drawback was forgetting to turn the ringer back on after training was over.

With legs inserted into the compression leg attachments, the brunette checked her notifications. Three missed video calls from Yongsun. There were also a few text messages and some tagged posts on Instagram. She’d call Yongsun back first.

A few rings passed before the graduate student answered.

“Hi!” She was so cute—hair in a messy bun with a bright smile, the kind that brought out the dimples at the corners of her lower lip.

“What do you want?” Moonbyul tried to respond disinterestedly.

“Oh please,” Yongsun rolled her eyes.

“Are you, like, a stalker or something? A fan? Blowing up my phone with a bunch of video calls.”

“And you didn’t answer,” the blonde reprimanded her, tone turning less playful.

“I was with the trainer, Yong.” Why was she explaining herself? There was no reason to explain herself. “What’s up?”

“I need help picking a color for my nails.”

“**That’s** what you were calling me for?”

“Yeah. I narrowed my options down to three colors, so I need to eliminate one.”

“Why only one?”

“Because I want one color on my toes and another on my fingers.”

“I see.”

“While you’re seeing, pick two, please. Here are the options.”

The decision was obvious once the three nail polish bottles were presented.

“Get rid of the blue. That shade doesn’t suit you. The green and taupe complement each other. They work together.”

“That’s what I thought, but maybe this is a good time to try something different?”

“You’re getting your nails done. That’s already you trying something different.” She normally did them herself.

“Ugh, fine.” Yongsun set the blue down and communicated to the nail tech working on her feet that she was no longer considering it. “Wait, which one should I use for my–”

“Olive green on your hands, taupe for your feet.”

“What if I did taupe on my han–”

“The green on your hands, the taupe on your toes,” Byulyi repeated.

“Fine,” Yongsun rolled her eyes. “How was practice?”

“It was cool. A few weeks until our first game, so we’re still doing a lot of conditioning, but incorporating more run-throughs for set plays. Yujin yelled at me afterwards, though.”

“What did you do?”

“Why are you assuming I did something?”

“Because I imagine she’s too busy to waste time scolding you just for fun.”

“Be on my side just once, Yong. Geez.”

“I’m always on your side. Number one supporter.”

“I don’t know,” she started mischievously, “there are some eager underclass girls making a strong case for themselves. You might want to step your game up.”

“It’s okay. They can have you.”

“Hanging up now.”

“Don’t you dare! Stop being so sensitive.”

“If I actually let one of them have me, though, you’d be upset.” She wanted Yongsun to agree.

“Of course I would. Giving in to rookie groupies is beneath you.”

“So you’d be fine with me giving in to veteran groupies?”

“I’m glad your trainer scolded you,” the older girl evaded the question altogether. “You deserve it.”

“You don’t even know what she yelled at me for,” the athlete chuckled.

“I don’t care. She was right. Do whatever she told you to do and stop being annoying.”

“Uh oh, Miss Yongsun is getting upset. I’ll let you go before you hit me through the phone. Am I seeing you tonight,” she asked hopefully. They saw each other throughout the week but they hadn’t spent a Saturday night together in a while. Byul missed that. A Saturday night in with Yongsun—just the two of them—sounded like exactly what she needed today. “We can, like, watch some movies or something? I’ll buy us some food?”

Yongsun’s groan and grimace told her that the subsequent answer wouldn’t be to her liking.

“Ugh, that sounds perfect. I wish I could,” the blonde bemoaned, “but I agreed earlier today to go out with Seungyeon and her friends.”

Seungyeon.

The athlete only barely held back a severe eye roll. Seungyeon’s name was one that Moonbyul had started seeing and hearing more often. The girl was gradually becoming a constant in Yongsun’s life and Byul didn’t know what to make of that. Curiosity got the best of her one day, resulting in the senior checking out the older woman’s Instagram page. She shouldn’t have done that. Seungyeon was beautiful—tall and lean with striking facial features. Seungyeon also had a job, which meant she had money. Who knows what inspired her to do so, but since the day Hyejin discussed Yongsun potentially hooking up with people, the graduate student began sharing more details about her nights out. One such detail was that she rarely paid for anything when out with Seungyeon, and by rarely, she meant that she never paid for anything. The girl came out of nowhere and immediately burrowed her way into Yongsun’s life. It was aggravating.

As had become customary for her, Moonbyul had to reel herself in. She was being ridiculous. It wasn’t like Seungyeon would steal Yongsun from her. There wasn’t even anything to steal. Yongsun was her best friend, nothing more. Whatever the nature of the relationship between Yongsun and Seungyeon, it was none of her business.

“How about,” Yongsun started excitedly, “you and I spend tomorrow together and I’ll completely block off next Saturday for you, too?”

“That’s fine,” Byulyi swallowed her disappointment at not being able to spend tonight together.

“**And** I’ll come over once I get back from the nail salon so you can see the final results in person.”

“That works for me. Gotta go now, but I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Byul-ah.”

Yongsun might have been going out with Seungyeon **again** tonight, but Moonbyul found solace in the fact that the graduate student called **her** to help pick a nail color. A small victory.

Then she remembered that Seungyeon was Yongsun’s friend, not a competitor because there was no competition. She’d gotten worked up over her friend spending time with another friend. A loser. She was a loser.

*

The picture was the same. The captions were very different.

150 likes

**yongsun** Happy Halloween from me and my favorite pet 🐶

View all 28 comments

**hyejin** Unnie, that’s . . . not how the movie goes 🤦‍

**taecyeon** Poor Moonbyul 😂.

**jinyoung** You look great, Yongsun.

**seungyeon** 😍

**heeyeon** You look hot, unnie!

600 likes

**byulyi** Why did I say yes to this?

View all 129 comments

**wheein** Byul-unnie, fighting! 😂

**yongsun** Because you love me!

|**byulyi** @yongsun 😅

|**wheein** @yongsun 😂

|**hyejin** yikes.

**heeyeon** Well . . .

**yooa** Why do you still look so cute dressed like this?

**sandeul** It makes sense now @heeyeon @seokjin @kenie @baro

|**byulyi** @sandeul We’re all sitting at the same table rn. Was this necessary?

“It was necessary, yes,” Sandeul cheekily chirped out loud after reading Moonbyul’s Instagram reply.

“Hurry up and tell us how this happened,” Seokjin demanded. His plate was full of food, but his attention was directed towards the picture Moonbyul had posted on Instagram.

“She asked and I said yes.” If she spoke directly about it, Byul hoped they could quickly move past it. The moment Heeyeon returned to the table after a quick bathroom break, the brunette knew that wouldn’t be possible.

“What are you all talking about?”

“Stop being nosy,” Byulyi tried to deflect.

“We’re talking about **this**,” Ken was quick to pull up his phone, the photo in question on display. “Byulyi’s couple costume with her friend.”

It was a picture of the night before when she and Yongsun attended a Halloween party on campus. Byul, dressed as a Dalmatian, was crouched down, allowing Yongsun, dressed up as Cruella de Vil, to rest her left hand on the younger girl’s costume‑covered head. Remembering when the blonde first approached her with the idea, Byul reddened a bit at how easily she’d succumbed to the proposition put forth.

_“Byul-ah,” Yongsun softly called from her desk. It was littered with tattered books and printed-out articles riddled with highlighted sentences._

_It was a weeknight in the middle of October. The graduate student had a 15-page paper to complete by week’s end and, thus, informed Taecyeon that she wouldn’t be working out with him during that time. Having work of her own to complete, Moonbyul recommended that the two of them spend each night in UV’s Academic Center, a room located next to the game room and gym in the building’s lounge. It was equipped with desks, computers, and a few printers and copiers, but more importantly, it emptied out after around 8:00 pm, leaving the room almost completely to Byul and Yongsun. Staking their claim on the space, the two agreed on a playlist full of mellow songs and set that as their background music before working comfortably alongside each other. The blonde calling Byul’s attention was the first either had spoken for at least an hour. They were engrossed in their work, riding the wave of productivity._

_“Hmm?”_

_“What are you doing for Halloween?”_

_“Nothing, really,” Byul set her pen and notebook down, standing up to stretch for a bit. “Was going to go wherever you, Wheein, and Hyejin were going. Why?”_

_“I was planning on dressing up, but I need someone else to complete the costume.”_

_“What are you going as?”_

_“Cruella de Vil from 101 Dalmatians.”_

_“That’s so random,” the senior smiled softly._

_“Not really,” Yongsun disagreed, not contentiously though. “My hair’s already blonde. I could use a temporary dye to make half of it black and could easily find an outfit.”_

_“What would you need me to be?”_

_“Obviously, a Dalmatian.”_

_“Not obvious. I’ve never seen that movie, so I don’t know specifics.”_

_Byulyi settled back into her seat, guffawing at the way Yongsun’s mouth dropped open._

_“You’ve what?!”_

_“I’ve never seen that movie.”_

_“Oh my gosh, we have to watch it!”_

_“Okay. Make time in your busy schedule for me and we’ll watch it. Where’s your water bottle? I’m going to fill mine up, I’ll do yours, too.”_

_Handing the bottle over, Yongsun continued the conversation. “Shut up, I always make time for you. And yes, we’ll watch it. But yeah, I’d need you to be a Dalmatian.”_

_“Okay, whatever. That’s fine.”_

_“Really?!” The older girl’s excitement filled Moonbyul with glee. There were times she’d do the most basic of things and Yongsun would get unexpectedly **so** happy. Those were moments that made her feel accomplished. Making Yongsun happy made her happy. Filled her with pride._

_“Yeah, of course. It’s not a big deal.”_

_At the time, it wasn’t. Once she had to walk the streets in her puppy outfit as Yongsun strutted around in a tight-fitting black corset dress with sexy makeup and alluring red lips, she realized more of why Yongsun was so surprised by the ease with which the athlete agreed to the costume. It was embarrassing._

_Standing by and bearing witness to the older girl fending off interested partygoers all night was the more frustrating part of everything, but that was another story._

“There’s nothing to talk about. Like I said, she asked and I said yes. That’s all there was to it. And it wasn’t a couple costume.”

“If it wasn’t a couple costume, that makes it worse, no? You’re basically saying that she asked you to be a dog and you willingly said yes to that.”

“Yes, Sandeul. That’s what happened.” The reply was clipped and everyone present could tell the athlete was growing agitated. A wave of groans and boos from the others at the table were sent Byul’s way.

“Don’t be like this!” Baro heckled.

“The sensitivity of the youngest. As expected,” Ken shook his head.

“See!” Sandeul picked the conversation up again, gaining strength from the group. “Even they know there’s no reason for you to be getting upset with me. I’m not the one that made you dress up as a dog!”

“It was a Dalmatian, not just a random dog,” she bit back. “You all are acting like people don’t dress up for Halloween. It was clearly a costume.”

“Well, she’s very pretty. I hope all your hard work pays off,” a laugh escaped him. Sandeul’s personality was infectious. As he broke down in a fit of giggles, so too did the others, Moonbyul included.

“You’re **annoying**,” she tried to stay serious but failed.

“And you’re trying and failing at hiding how bad you have it for this girl.”

Byulyi had known these four for around a month but had heard about them from Heeyeon long before ever meeting them. The application process for SNU’s Business School was cutthroat. It was to be expected—the school was one of the top in the country. Once admitted, though, there were many measures put in place to ensure that every enrolled student had the support needed to thrive in the program. One such measure was a cohort grouping. Byul wasn’t exactly sure how the cohorts were chosen, but each class was placed into smaller clusters or groupings of around twenty-five students each. Clusters took all their first-year classes together, the goal being to foster community. That was how Heeyeon met Sandeul, Seokjin, Ken, and Baro. They were all part of the same cluster.

For weeks, Byul heard stories from her roommate about them and the antics they got into. They were all the same age, which wasn’t as common as one would think. Business school applicants were typically a few years removed from college with some work experience under their belts. Given this, the five of them instantly gravitated towards each other. From what Heeyeon said, they were fun guys, so even if Moonbyul hadn’t been applying to the same business school, Heeyeon made it known that she would have introduced the senior to them anyway. And boy, was the athlete grateful that her friend made the introduction. The chemistry with the “’92 Club” members was instant, as evident by the way they so naturally teased her for everything. Choosing to ignore their ribbing, Byul was determined to make the most of their Sunday brunch.

“Can we drop it now? There’s more to me than my love life.”

“Listen to her bluff,” Heeyeon playfully rolled her eyes.

“Byulyi, that was gross,” Seokjin chimed in, mock gasping and covering his mouth for added effect.

“Look, we get it. You’re bigtime. Please tone down the ego,” Ken added.

“Can you all please **stop**,” the senior whined. They were obviously purposely dramatizing and taking everything she said out of context for the fun of it. “I want to eat in peace.”

“Anything for you, Byulyi. We’re just grateful you graced us with your presence today.”

“I’m begging,” Moonbyul pleaded.

Satisfied with the distress they’d caused the group’s youngest member, the business school students dropped their charade, falling into regular conversation with each. The senior tuned out at one point as the other picked up a conversation about one of their professor’s eccentric teaching habits. A few minutes passed as she scrolled through post after post on Instagram of the Halloween shenanigans the peers and public figures she followed had gotten into the night before. Suddenly, a tap on her left shoulder broke her reverie.

“Where are the essays you were supposed to send me?”

“Ah,” the athlete rubbed her neck in shame. All four of her new friends had been welcoming and enthusiastic about helping her with her applications in whichever they could. Sandeul, though, had been the most proactive, offering to read over her essays and personally introduce her to SNU Business School professors. She was supposed to email him her essays by the Thursday that just passed. “I’ll send them to you tonight. Sorry,” her face warmed slightly.

“I’m not trying to stress you out, but I figured since Midnight Madness is next weekend, you’ll be busy towards the latter half of this week and even busier once the season starts. The sooner I can review your essays, the sooner I can get edits back to you and then you can process everything. Just trying to make it easy for you.”

“I should be the one making it easy for you seeing as you’re going out of your way to help me.”

“Oh please,” he waved her off. “It’s nothing. We all want to help make the application process easier for you so you can join us next year! It’s the least I could do,” he bumped her shoulder softly.

“I’m very appreciative of the help. Will get those essays to you later today.”

“Did I hear you mention Midnight Madness?” Seokjin interrupted their conversation. “Byulyi, can you get us tickets into the events?

“You’re dad’s a CEO,” Ken responded in disbelief. “You can afford tickets to everything.”

“**But**, if our superstar can get me **free** tickets, why would I pay? That’d be a waste of money, don’t you think?”

“This guy,” Baro mumbled and shook his head. Everyone else simply laughed.

“You see where I’m coming from, right, Byulyi? Right?”

She never answered him, focusing instead on catching her breath from laughing so hard. Seokjin coming from a family with money, she knew about, which is why she found him so funny—he was always bargaining and looking for ways to avoid spending money. Because the slightly older young man always came across as down-to-earth, the revelation that his father was **that** high-ranking made Moonbyul like him more instead of finding him intimidating in any way. Once that news was processed, she moved on to thinking about the next weekend. Midnight Madness.

In some ways, last year’s event felt like yesterday and in other ways, it felt like eons ago. Her mind immediately went to Yongsun. This time last year, they had only known each other for a couple of months’ time. It was mind-boggling thinking about how far the two of them had come. Byul remembered every second of the night they spent out together—the shock she experienced when Yongsun showed up looking as stunning as she did, the laughs they shared, the irritation that consumed her when Yongsun disappeared, only to later be found with Jinyoung, Chorong, and her other friends. It was a doozy of a night.

The basketball star **knew** the following weekend would be eventful. Whether it’d be a good type of eventful, she wasn’t sure, but with everything that had transpired since last year, and considering all the moving pieces that could potentially collide, she wouldn’t hold her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it. Thank you all for the kind messages and comments. Your patience and understanding motivated me to make sure I got this out today.
> 
> It’s a new school year for everyone, meaning new characters! Also, lots brewing just beneath the surface. It’s all so much fun. Writing the end of the chapter, it hit that a bit over a year has passed for most of these characters. Wow. It’s amazing to think about the ways in which each of them has grown. Proud. Oh! Funny enough, the Cruella de Vil/Dalamtion costume pairing was decided on long before the teasers came out. How wild is that?
> 
> *NormaTec: A compression therapy treatment that uses pulse massage patterns to boost recovery post-training/post-physical activity. The compression device uses compressed air to massage limbs, mobilize fluid, and fight inflammation. There are leg sleeves that individuals insert their legs into. It feels great.


	27. Welcome the Tongue

Life moved on for her.

The whole attracted-to-her-best-friend thing hadn’t completely evaporated, but the start of her last year in graduate school brought with it more pressing matters. For starters, Yongsun knew that, as with the previous year, time would fly and, if she didn’t prepare properly, she’d graduate with no job prospects.

A lot had changed since, but it felt at times as if she were a fourth-year in college all over again, ill-prepared for life after graduation and scrambling to save herself and her family from embarrassment. As with years ago, conversations with her mother only further drove home the feelings of insecurity and uncertainty Yongsun experienced periodically.

_“What kind of jobs can you get with a degree in Educational Counseling?”_

_“Lots of jobs, mother.”_

_“Do those ‘lots of jobs’ pay lots of money?”_

_“Mother.”_

_“Okay, you’re getting sensitive. I’ll drop it for now. But you must start looking early, honey. If you start now, things should be fine. Especially with a degree from such an elite school.”_

_Yongsun knew all of this. “Yes, mother. I know.”_

_“Did you eat today? You get cranky when you don’t eat.”_

_“I ate.” _

_Two years had passed since they last had a similar discussion. Yongsun had learned nothing since then on how to manage stressful conversations with her mother. It was an area in which she realized growth was needed. Lashing out and getting frosty was childish. Her mother didn’t deserve it. Despite thriving academically and socially at a top university, she still felt like a failure and disappointment for not having yet secured a job—it was the first week of school. Her irrationality wasn’t her mother’s fault, it was something deep-seated that required intense reflection._

_Oblivious to her youngest’s inner turmoil, Lee Soyoung switched gears. “How is Byulyi? I miss her,” the older woman whined. Whined. She whined._

_“Ew. Don’t do that,” Yongsun chuckled uncomfortably._

_“How is she? Are you taking care of her?”_

_“Last I checked, she’s a grown woman, mother. She’s capable of taking care of herself.”_

_“Stop acting cold-hearted. It doesn’t suit you. She’s your friend. Friends take care of each other.”_

_“Mmm. She’s fine. Training, always training. We actually just had a meal together.”_

_“That’s nice,” her mother cooed. “She’s such a sweet girl.”_

_“She’s okay.”_

_“Jealousy doesn’t suit you either,” her mom melodically laughed. “Anyway, I have to go. We’ll talk soon, okay?”_

_“Okay. Love you, mommy.”_

_“Love you, too, baby. Tell Byulyi I said hello and that I miss her.”_

_“I’ll be sure not to do that.”_

“Earth to Yongsun!”

“Huh? Sorry.” Shaking her head a bit, Yongsun refocused.

“What’s up with you today? You okay?”

She and Taecyeon had been working out together for a little over one month. Throughout that time, a solid friendship had blossomed. The hours of lifting and pushing unnecessary amounts of weight, the pungent smell of metal that clung to their hands after each workout, the mental and physical blocks they overcame together—a unique bond had formed between the two graduate students. For the most part, Yongsun felt she could talk to Moonbyul about anything, but for the handful of things she withheld from the basketball player, Taecyeon had become her go-to.

“Had a talk with my mom last week about jobs. It’s still on my mind. A little stressed, I guess.” Speaking while bench pressing wasn’t the easiest. Expending additional energy, no matter how infinitesimal, made it exceptionally more difficult to accomplish her goal right now—ten repetitions of a 20.4-kilogram barbell.

“Why are you stressed?” Taecyeon asked. His words conveyed genuine interest, but the way he hovered over her head, eyes intently tracking her arms’ every move as they lifted the barbell, she almost laughed and dropped the thing altogether.

Upper arms burning, Yongsun only barely pushed out her last repetition—with help from Taecyeon—before rolling off the bench. Swirling the cool water from her bottle around her mouth for a bit, she finally swallowed and acknowledged the question previously asked of her.

“I’m stressed because I don’t have a job.”

“You still have a one-minute plank before you’re done,” he calmly reminded her. Having added a significant amount of weight to his bar, Yongsun stared incredulously as her gym buddy knocked out his repetitions so smoothly and easily.

“Taec!”

“Don’t ‘Taec’ me. You’re not done yet. Do your plank and it’s over. The longer you stand there and whine, the longer until you can be finished.” Satisfied with the sound of her sucking her teeth, he continued, “as for the job situation, have you started looking?”

“No,” she responded flatly. Moments later, he appeared next to her, setting up to complete his own plank.

“Then why are you stressed? It’s not like you’ve looked and gotten rejected. Haven’t even started yet.”

“What if I start looking and get rejected from everything?”

“That won’t happen. You’re graduating from SNU. Even though you’re not, people will assume you’re intelligent.”

“Shut up!” She squealed, pushing him. The man barely budged from his perfect-form horizontal position.

“I think I need to up your workouts. Look at how weak you are,” his wholehearted laugh filled the almost-empty gym.

“I’d sue.”

“Drama queen.”

Both finished with the evening’s workout, Taecyeon moved right into their warm-down stretch.

“You’ll find a job. Doesn’t the Center help some of the athletes with stuff like that? Next time you go in for a shift, ask the staff if they have any resources that would help you get started with your search.”

That was actually a great idea, one she had never considered because she didn’t want anyone knowing she didn’t have things completely figured out. Maybe it was time she swallowed her pride.

“Look, you’re quiet now because I’m right.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“I’m not, I just realize the importance of asking for help . . . which I’m about to ask for,” he finished shyly.

“This sounds juicy.”

“Shut up.”

“Your face is turning pink! Oh my goodness!”

Ignoring all of her antics, the KU student laid out on the mat-covered floor.

“I have a date on Thursday and I need your advice. Because you’re a woman.”

“Perceptive.”

“Be serious, please? I’ve known this girl for a while. She lives in UV, too, and works in the management office. This year we have shifts that overlap, so we’ve gotten closer and I asked her out yesterday. She said yes, but I have no idea where to take her or what we should do. Thought about a movie–”

“No movies. That’s awkward. You don’t get a chance to talk. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, take her to a nice café. That way you can talk outside of a work setting and get to know each other better.”

They went back and forth until the two figured out the best option for Taecyeon and his date. As their brainstorming session wrapped up, the two gathered their belongings, heading to the gym’s exit, when Yongsun’s phone rang. Asking him to wait a moment for her, she walked off to a corner and answered, not without fighting through the pain that shot up through her arms.

“Hi! What’s up?”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Hi, Seungyeon. My night’s going well, thank you. Had a tough workout, but I survived.” The chuckle that came through the phone sent shivers down her spine. Her old-acquaintance-turned-friend sometimes had this effect on her, but the two were playful enough that Yongsun could make a joke about it. Always jokes, never an outright acknowledgement of what seemed to be growing between them. “Seungyeon, you’re doing that thing again. Please stop.”

“I’m sorry, I apologize. I’ll turn down my charm.”

“Thank you. What was it you were asking about this weekend?”

“Oh yeah. Sirae’s hosting another party this weekend and needs people to fill the club. Want to come?”

This was regular for them. Sirae, who played at SKKU at the same time as Seungyeon, also lived in Seoul. An entrepreneur, she was making a name for herself in the nightlife scene, skilled at networking and planning talk-of-the-town parties. All of this Yongsun learned when the three of them met up one night for drinks. Since then, Sirae would extend invitations to her via Seungyeon for nights out on the town. Things were always free, something Yongsun felt guilty about at first, but Sirae assured her that she’d still make a profit. _“Someone will spend a lot of money making sure your glass is never empty. Even if you only want to drink juice, they’ll buy you the juice of your choice all night. If they’re doing that, the club’s making money and I’m happy.”_ A shrewd businesswoman.

Catching sight of Taecyeon waiting patiently by the door, the graduate student decided to finish up quickly.

“Sounds like fun, sure. Can I bring some friends?”

“Chorong? Yeah, she was fun last time she partied with us.”

“And another friend.”

“Is she pretty?”

“He’s a he.”

“Is he pretty?”

“You’re too much. And yes, he is. Very.”

“Fine. You can bring him. Send me his name and I’ll have Sirae add him to the list so he doesn’t have to pay.”

“Thank you!”

“It’s only because you’re the one asking. Seriously.”

“I get special privileges?” **Sometimes** Yongsun could get brave. Sometimes.

“You know you do.”

“Deserved!”

“You’re so silly. I’m going to call her now to let her know.”

“Okay. I’m going to call it a night soon, so I’ll talk to you later this week, yeah?”

“Yeah, you’ll hear from me. Have a good night,” Seungyeon bid her farewell.

“You, too!”

Checking her phone one last time as she walked to rejoin Taecyeon, she caught a message sent to her a few minutes ago,

**From: Byul-ah**

Ordered dinner.

Come by after your workout 😊. _8:48 pm_

“Who was that? You sounded so flirty.”

“I did not,” she insisted.

“I get special privileges,” Taecyeon imitated her conversation from a couple minutes ago, complete with batting his eyelashes.

“I didn’t even do that!” She laughed out loud.

“You might as well have.”

“You’re a creep for listening to my conversation. Anyway, a friend of mine hosts parties and is having one this weekend. You’re invited. It’s free. You’re welcome.”

“Ohhh,” he held the door open for her as they finally left the gym, “we’re at that level now? Hanging out outside of exercising and working out?”

“You’re holding on by a thread, but yes. We are.”

“Exciting! I’d love to go. And I can update you on what happens Thursday.”

“That’s perfect.”

Their connection wasn’t yet fine-tuned, though. They reached the lobby and he turned right to head outside towards the mart. She turned left towards the door leading to the second tower.

“Where are you going? Thought we were getting dinner?”

“I’m eating with Byulyi tonight.”

“Ohhh,” he playfully wagged his brows, “dinner with Byulyi, huh?”

He knew. She told him. He’d been asking questions about the two of them during one of their workouts and she told him because . . . why not? Keeping it to herself was exhausting and it wasn’t as if Taecyeon would tell anyone.

The bond between workout buddies was no joke.

“It’s not like that. It’s just dinner.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy your ‘just dinner’. I also hope it’s full of protein. You worked hard today, you need to eat properly if you want to see results.”

“Yes, dad.”

“Goodnight, smartass. Have fun suffering with Moonbyul.”

*

The club, as Sirae’s parties typically were, was packed. Great news for Sirae, horrible for Yongsun, whose journey to the bathroom and back took twice as long as it probably should have.

Doing her best to maneuver through the swarm of bodies on the path to VIP, Yongsun blocked out the faces of the people around trying to get her attention, intent only on making it back to her friends. Finally making it to and past the bouncer guarding the entrance to the seated area, the blonde took a moment to appreciate her accomplishment and catch her breath. The amount of people packed together out there caused a noticeable difference in temperature. The fresh air now was a gift.

“You okay, over there?”

It was one of the guys from the VIP party next to hers.

“I’m fine, thank you. Taking a moment to breath.”

“It’s rough out there. That’s why I stay in VIP.”

“I had to use the bathroom,” she pouted. The two of them had run into each other throughout the night and each time he seemed to not take himself too seriously, cracking a few jokes here and there.

“There are bathrooms in VIP. Your friends didn’t tell you?”

“What?! We’ve all been trekking through that mess out there. No one told us.” She was sober and annoyed. It took forever getting to the restroom, waiting on the disgustingly long line, then making it back to their group’s section.

“That sucks.”

“Stop laughing at me,” she pouted again. This was frustrating news. “I didn’t mean to, it’s just that you just look very cute making that face. It’s entertaining.”

“Anyway, **sir**, I’m going back to my friends now.”

“Wait! I didn’t even get your name.”

And that was how Yongsun spent an additional twenty minutes chatting up a stranger she met at the club. It was fun, though. He was easy-going and didn’t take himself too seriously. The conversation was effortless. She found him attractive and she could **tell** that the feeling was mutual. He’d for sure ask for her phone number.

Going out as often as she had been was daunting. It took a lot of energy out of her, but she was learning **a lot** about herself, specifically what and who she found attractive, and how to interact—flirt—with those people. Things were always low-stakes. She’d most likely never see these people again and her friends were always nearby, so safety wasn’t a huge concern for her. It was perfect. The point was, she’d grown exponentially in this area—Yongsun wasn’t an expert, but she was now capable of reading people’s body language when they spoke to her. She paid attention to their reactions. She listened and observed more than she spoke. That’s how she **knew** this man would ask for her number. He kept laughing at jokes she wasn’t making, his entire body was turned towards her, she didn’t speak much—mostly listening to him answer questions she asked—but when she did, he hung on her every word.

It wasn’t a matter of being conceited, it was a matter of fact: he was interested.

**From: Rongie**

You’ve been gone forever.

Are you okay? _12:38 am_

“It looks like my time’s up,” he joked as Yongsun’s eyes checked her phone for the new message sent to her.

“My friends are asking for me. I’ve been gone for a while.”

“Maybe I could get your number and we could continue our conversation another time? It’d be great to get to know you better . . . unless you’re in a relationship?”

“No,” she smiled, “I’m not in a relationship. But I don’t give my number out to strangers.” After being semi-scolded by Wheein and Hyejin once for giving her number out, the blonde had learned her lesson. “I could take yours, though,” she smirked.

“That was smooth,” he complimented. “But yes, I’d love it if you took my number.”

And that was exactly what Yongsun did. She took his number and finally made her way back to her friends, not without teasing her latest acquaintance once more.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Yongsun.” The smile she was met with was charming. Very. She most likely wouldn’t contact him after tonight, but she enjoyed the experience. “I look forward to receiving a message from you.”

Pretending to think about it for a while, she finally responded. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” With that, she strutted to her Chorong and the others.

“Look who finally showed up!”

“I wasn’t gone for that long, Rongie.” She was, but she needed her friend to drop it. “Where’s Taec?”

“At the bar over there. Should be back soon.”

“I think he’s in a good mood because his date went well on Thursday,” Yongsun shared.

“He mentioned that to me! I think he really likes that girl.”

“He does.”

“That’s cute.”

“He deserves it,” the blonde answered, sliding into the empty spot on the couch to her roommate’s right. “He’s such a good guy.”

“You’re back,” Seungyeon suddenly appeared, voice slightly slurred. Black trousers, black tube top, black blazer, red lipstick, bone straight hair. She looked **good**.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Chorong announced, vacating her seat.

“Oh! Just found out there’s a bathroom in VIP. Ask the bartender so you don’t have to get stuck in the mess out there.”

Chorong gave the okay sign with her fingers before heading off. Seungyeon wasted no time taking her spot. Arm casually slung along the back of the couch, she simply stared at Yongsun.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The graduate student asked, growing a self-conscious under her friend’s intense eyes.

“Because you’re pretty.” She sounded like Moonbyul. Yongsun hated that that was the first person she thought of.

“Thank you,” she cheekily replied.

“You’re welcome. How was your week?”

After their conversation on Monday, the two hadn’t spoken much.

“It was fine. Adjusting to my schedule for this semester. How was yours?”

“It wasn’t too bad, actually. Work was calmer than it’s been in recent memory. The only downside was the lack of conversation with you. I kept checking my phone to see if you’d sent any messages. Nothing.”

As fun as Seungyeon was, she made Yongsun nervous sometimes. It was becoming abundantly clear that they were attracted to each other, but Yongsun had no experience dealing with someone that was as much to handle as Seungyeon was. Powerful, dynamic, commanding presence. The comparison wasn’t perfect, but there was a lot of Hyejin in her and Hyejin was . . . well, a handful and a half. She’d grown accustomed to Hyejin, but with Seungyeon, Yongsun wasn’t sure she could match that energy.

But she’d try.

“Phones go two ways. You could’ve texted me if you wanted to talk to me.”

“I’m shy,” the taller woman smirked.

“You’re a flirt is what you are,” Yongsun smirked back.

“A little bit. Can you blame me, though? Look at you.”

It had to be the alcohol. Yongsun was convinced. Seungyeon had never before been this outright flirtatious. It wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, the graduate student liked it. The back and forth that threatened—if conditions were just right—to evolve from words only to action, Yongsun found it exhilarating. It was fun. And it continued being fun for the rest of the night as she entertained Seungyeon’s emboldened words.

*

The rest of September passed without incident. Yongsun spent most of its Saturdays out with Seungyeon, but they’d reverted to their usual routine of joking about the attraction between them. If the other woman wasn’t doing anything about it, Yongsun wasn’t taking it upon herself to make a move.

What was more interesting to her was that the conversation with her mother a month ago continued to linger on her mind.

She had no job for after graduate school because she hadn’t applied to any jobs because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. It was gnawing at her. Enough so that her usually well-concealed self-doubt jumped out every now and then, obvious to anyone that was **really** paying attention. And Moonbyul seemed to always be paying attention.

Taecyeon was out again with the girl he had been seeing, so her night was free. Working out without him was an option—she’d done it before—but Yongsun wasn’t in the mood. She wanted to lay in her bed and forget about everything. As if reading her mind, Byulyi messaged about being bored and asked if she could come over—Chorong was studying at Changsub’s that night.

Both with a handle on their schoolwork, they laid in Yongsun’s bed wrapped in each other’s arms while watching a movie on her laptop. Byulyi was watching it, Yongsun’s mind was elsewhere. Something funny happened and she didn’t laugh. The basketball player suddenly paused the movie.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Play the movie.”

“I’m not playing the movie. Something’s obviously wrong. That’s, like, the third time that something you’d normally find funny happened and you didn’t laugh. You’ve been weird for a few weeks now, but I didn’t say anything because I figured you’d say something, but you haven’t said something. What’s wrong?”

That’s all it took. She cracked. Spilled everything about not having a job lined up, about feeling like she was going to be a disappointment to herself and her parents, about feeling like she wasn’t good enough to find a secure job. She didn’t know if she excelled at anything in particular. One thing she did was work hard, but Yongsun had a feeling that putting “I work hard” on a resume wouldn’t quite win employers over.

Byulyi listened attentively. Said nothing. She let Yongsun get everything out before giving her two cents.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Thanks for the amazing advice, Byulyi,” she dryly spat out. The senior laughing only served to infuriate her further.

“I’m serious,” Byul held her tighter. “That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve listened to you say a lot of dumb things. Frankly, it’s annoying how you downplay yourself and your abilities. The part about not knowing what you want to do, okay, that makes sense. Everything else was dumb. There’s no other way to phrase it. Why would anyone be disappointed in you or think that you’re a failure?”

“If I graduate from SNU and don’t have a job, wouldn’t that be embarrassing and considered a failure?”

“Um, no, because you would have graduated from SNU. And that’s not to say that that would make you smarter than anyone else, but this is a tough school to get into. You got in because they believed you capable of excelling and that’s what you’re doing. You’ve worked jobs the entire time while also maintaining high marks. That’s difficult to do, but you make it seem **so** easy. You’re doing **so** much good, Yong. Why can’t you see that? Hmm? You’re amazing, and even that is an understatement. I’m not good with words like you are, but you’re doing just fine, Yong. You said you don’t know what kind of job you want yet, so let’s start with what you like doing. Get up, go get a pen and some paper.”

“Byul-ah.”

“Go get a pen and a paper.”

“I heard you the first time,” Yongsun rolled her eyes.

“Obviously not, because you’re still lying down on me instead of holding a pen and paper.”

Despite her grumbling, she did as she was told, trudging to her desk to retrieve a few sheets of paper and a pen.

Hopping back on the bed and sitting cross-legged across from each other, Moonbyul asked one question.

“What do you like doing?”

“Helping people.”

“That’s stupid.”

“How is that stupid?!”

“That’s a generic answer, Yong. You can do better than that. What do you like doing? Write everything that comes to mind down on the paper and don’t stop until I say so.”

“How did this turn into you bossing me around?”

“You’re talking, but you’re not writing like I asked you to.”

Although a bit rude, this bossy side of Moonbyul was, dare she say, sexy? It was kind of turnin–

“Write!”

“Oh my gosh, stop yelling at me!”

“If you followed directions, I wouldn’t have to yell.”

Never mind, the bossy side of Byulyi irked her.

Putting in a bit more effort to the question asked, though, the blonde took time to think about her graduate career thus far. What had she enjoyed about it? What did she like about it? What, if asked, would she request more of? She thought and wrote and scratched out and thought some more.

“Okay, read what you have?”

“I have lots of stuff. Be more specific.” The aggravation hadn’t fully worn off.

“Here’s one thing you like doing and are **great** at: acting like a child.”

“**I **act like a child? Have you met yourself?”

“What do you like doing?! Read the paper!”

“Don’t yell at me!”

She watched as Byul took a deep breath in and exhaled dramatically.

“Fine. I’m sorry. Yongsun,” the athlete began in a sickeningly sweet and timid voice, “the brightest light in all the world, could you please read your paper and tell me what you like doing so that we can brainstorm some career options for you?”

“You’re an asshole!” It wasn’t meant to be funny, she was being serious, but Moonbyul began cackling and she suddenly followed suit. The whole thing was ridiculous. “So far, I’ve most enjoyed the parts of my program where I’ve learned tangible skills to be used in facilitation and counseling roles. My favorite classes so far have been _Creativity and Education, Group Counseling, _and my _Counseling Practicum_.”

“That was on a Saturday.”

“Exactly! It was on a weekend and it’s still one of my favorites. I’m also really enjoying my _Career and Vocational Counseling_ class this semester. They’ve all helped a ton in me feeling more confident when working with athletes at the Center. Speaking of! I **love** working at the Center. It’s not even about me feeling accomplished, it’s about the students I work with feeling proud of themselves when they meet the academic goals they set for themselves, especially the ones that never realized they learn differently.” She talked and talked about the intricacies of crafting plans for each individual student that took into account their strengths and areas for growth. Once again, Byulyi listened without interrupting, speaking only after she had completely shared her feelings and thoughts.

“I know what you should do.”

“What?”

“You should email the Director of the Center and ask if he has time grab coffee with you one day. Tell him that you’re interested in how he got to his role because you’re graduating soon and are thinking about your own professional development.”

“Taec recommended something similar!”

“Taec? Taecyeon?”

“Yeah! I talked to him about this for a little bit last month and he said something similar.”

“You spoke to him about this a month ago?!”

“Yeah, not long after my mom called me and started asking about job stuff.”

“You were worrying about this for a month! And you spoke to **Taecyeon** about it?”

“Yeah, why? What’s wrong?”

“I’m leaving.”

Yongsun should’ve felt bad that Moonbyul seemed genuinely perturbed by the fact that this had been kept from her, but the way the senior spat out Taecyeon’s name was so dramatic that it was comical. While she sat atop her bed clutching her belly from laughing at Byul’s indignation, the basketball star was quickly making her way to the apartment’s entrance.

“Oh my goodness, stop being such a baby, Byulyi.”

Effortlessly hopping off of her bed, Yongsun caught the younger girl midway through putting her left shoe on. From behind, she instinctively wrapped her arms around Byul’s toned stomach.

“Can you stop, please?”

The soft voice she used was effective enough because the taller girl halted her actions.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“No I’m not,” came a gruff voice in return.

“Yes you are. There’s no reason for you to be upset.”

“You held onto this for a month and didn’t tell me anything. But you go and tell **Taecyeon**, sorry, I mean **Taec** all about it.”

“Look at me, please?” Moonbyul turned in Yongsun’s arms, finally facing her, but refused to make eye contact. “Look at me, please?” She asked once again, voice softer.

Had she known it would be this big of an issue, she wouldn’t have mentioned anything about Taecyeon’s advice. She had simply found it funny that they went through that writing exercise to come to a similar conclusion.

Finally, Byulyi’s brown eyes met her own. Gently cupping the senior’s face, Yongsun allowed herself a moment of vulnerability.

“It was embarrassing to share with anyone. I was distracted during the workout, he asked what was wrong, and I mentioned it. That’s all.”

“I’m your best friend,” Byulyi grumbled. “I’m supposed to be the person you share that stuff with.”

“It was embarrassing. You know how I am with stuff like that. I don’t like asking for help or feeling incapable of figuring things out.”

“I don’t care. You should be able to talk to me about anything. I always share things like that with you.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

Who knows how long they stood there, staring at each other while Yongsun held Byulyi’s face as if it were the most fragile thing in the world.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever.”

“Take off your shoes, let’s go finish the movie,” she turned and headed to her room, dragging Byulyi along behind her.

“You missed most of it anyway. We’d have to start it over.”

“Then we’ll start it over.”

“You think I have all night to watch a movie with you?”

“Yes, that’s what I think because you do have all night. Where else do you have to be?” She asked as she hopped into the bed, waiting for Moonbyul to get situated so she could lay on top of her again.

“That’s not the point.”

“It is the point. You’re gonna spend the night anyway, stop complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” the younger girl mumbled.

“You are. Press play and be quiet.”

“I help you figure your life out and this is how you repay me?”

“By letting you sleep in my bed? Yes, it is how I repay you.”

“You’re seriously so annoyi–”

“Byal-ah, the movie’s starting. Please be quiet, I’m trying to pay attention.”

*

**From: Seungyeon**

Be there in 5! _7:27 pm_

It was the same routine as usual. Seungyeon called her the week before asking what Yongsun was doing the following Thursday. Yongsun told her that her evening was clear and that she’d be happy to join in whatever it was Seungyeon had in mind. That turned out to be a restaurant not far from Seungyeon’s job.

Usually, if meeting on a weekday, it meant that Seungyeon, Sirae, and some of their colleagues were enjoying happy hour specials. That was what Yongsun assumed would be happening tonight.

That was not what ended up happening.

“Hey!” The young professional walked up to her at the restaurant’s bar.

“Hi!”

They hugged.

“I actually made a reservation, so we can sit at a table.”

“Oh. That’s fine with me. Is Sirae joining later? I didn’t hear anything from her.”

“She’s not coming tonight. It’s just the two of us.”

Seungyeon waved it off like it was nothing, but it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t **something**, but it wasn’t **nothing**.

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

Flagging down a hostess, Seungyeon distractedly answered. “Yeah, I wanted to try this place and couldn’t think of anyone else to go with so I asked you.”

“So I’m you last choice?” She joked, trying to play off the nervousness creeping up on her.

“You’re actually one of my first choices, but I was trying to play cool.” The honesty was refreshing, appreciated, and calming. It helped tremendously in getting her to relax.

“Are you– Are you **flirting** with me?” The manner in which she asked it was very much intentionally dramatized, but part of her was seeking clarity on what exactly was transpiring.

Settled in a table tucked away a corner of the restaurant, Seungyeon was confident and direct. “I am, yes. Is that okay with you?”

Contrary to what she expected, the straightforward confession made Yongsun feel even more comfortable. If she asked a clarifying question about what was happening, Seungyeon would answer, this she was sure of. That was reassuring. Reminded her there was nothing to be nervous about. She could go with the flow and be fine. She was attracted to Seungyeon, and Seungyeon was attracted to her. It was fine. Whatever happened or didn’t happen, things would be **fine**.

Smirking and playfully rolling her eyes, she replied, “Yeah, it is. It’s okay with me.”

*

Dinner lasted for two hours. The tension aside, it was just the two of them chatting each other up as usual. It was fun. It was fine.

As with almost all of their weekday nights out, Seungyeon drove Yongsun home and the two sat in the parked vehicle, talking for a bit longer. Things felt normal until their separation for the night inched closer and closer. Yongsun’s stomach was in knots.

Would Seungyeon kiss her?

Was this even technically a date for Seungyeon to kiss her?

No one had mentioned it being a date, so it wasn’t a date, then they could just hug goodbye like they usually did and be done with it. Except the night wasn’t like their usual nights out—Seungyeon outright admitted to flirting with her. But that also didn’t necessarily mean anything because people not named Yongsun flirted with others all the time. It was just something people did. It didn’t have to mean anything.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now. Thanks for joining me tonight. I had fun. I always do when we hang out.”

“Me, too. It was fun. The restaurant was nice. Thank you for inviting me, Seungyeon.” The formality in her voice made her internally cringe.

“Happy to hear you enjoyed it. I didn’t want to spend another night drinking.”

“It was nice.”

“Cool. Cool.”

“Yup.”

“Okay, so . . . goodnight.”

“Yeah. Goodnight.”

The awkwardness getting to be too much, Yongsun laughed, breaking the tension.

“We’re being so awkward,” Seungyeon admitted.

“I know. For no reason.”

“For **no** reason. I said it before, but I’ll say it again, thanks for joining me tonight. I had a great time.”

“Me, too.” Letting her guard down, Yongsun leaned across the console for a hug, one that Seungyeon happily accepted.

As she pulled away, though, she felt lips on her own and freaked out. Internally. She freaked out internally, because on the outside, her lips melded with Seungyeon’s, following the other girl’s lead. Soft, closed lips pressed against hers, so she pressed closed lips against the other’s.

Long fingers held her head in place and things escalated. When a moist tongue pressed against her, for a millisecond, Yongsun considered the possibility of denying Seungyeon entrance. Then she remembered that she was in her early 20s, living on her own, and recently focused on having fun and living a little more spontaneously.

Here was an attractive acquaintance-friend of hers that enjoyed kissing her. There was no conversation about a relationship, it was just two people that were into each other doing things that people interested in each other did.

She welcomed the tongue, met it with her own, and wrapped her arms around Seungyeon’s slender neck. Just like that they continued, reading and reacting to each other.

Things eventually tapered out, their heated kiss turning into sporadic pecks, before Yongsun pulled away altogether.

“Goodnight.” The voice that left her lips was foreign to them both, huskier.

“Goodnight,” Seungyeon smiled.

Deciding to once again be bold, Yongsun leaned in once more. The way Seungyeon sat eagerly awaiting another kiss thrilled her. She felt on top of the world. She felt **good**. She felt in control. She **was** in control, and she loved it.

As Seungyeon puckered her lips for one more kiss, Yongsun placed a tender, closed-mouth kiss to the other woman’s left cheek, making sure to maintain eye contact as she pulled away sporting a cheeky smile.

Once out of the car, all focus was on making it into the building and away from the eyes she **knew** were following her every move, an undertaking she successfully accomplished. There was no time to second-guess or freak out over anything that had taken place throughout the night because almost immediately, her phone buzzed.

**From: Seungyeon**

Of course you’d end it like that 😂.

I’ll get you back lol. _10:11 pm_

For the umpteenth time that night, the tension was broken. Letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, Yongsun entered her apartment with a smile on her face. Whatever was happening with Seungyeon was nothing serious. Things weren’t awkward because they kissed. They were having fun, living in the moment, going with the flow, and given everything else going on in her life, that was exactly what she needed right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will edit this later. Please don’t hold any errors against me.
> 
> Thank you those of you still reading. Funny story for the day: read a post on Twitter about slow burns and how painful they can sometimes be. Some people are dealing with 60+ chapters before main characters even admit they like the other person! By those standards, this story isn’t slow at all. This is barely a burn compared to what others are dealing with. I’m joking … unless …
> 
> ETA, fun fact: The classes mentioned in this chapter—and all chapters—are real SNU classes!
> 
> ALSO, and most importantly, stream 'HIP' by Mamamoo.


	28. Things happened. Grow up.

“My turn!” Chorong clapped excitedly. “Okay, never have I ever . . . had sex in public.”

“Chorong! What is up with you and all these sexual questions tonight? I apologize on her behalf,” Yongsun voiced sincerely to the group.

“Don’t apologize, that’s the point of the game,” Sirae reassured her. “The more people drink, the more fun the game gets. Anyway, you got me with that one. I’m down to three fingers.”

Wanting a break from clubs and bars, Chorong urged Yongsun to invite Sirae and Seungyeon over to their apartment for a relaxed night in. Having tagged along with the former SKKU students enough times, Chorong felt comfortable enough considering them acquaintances. She made a compelling case about not having many other female friends and wanting to get closer to Sirae and Seungyeon since they were all the same age. Yongsun didn’t need much convincing as she, too, enjoyed the time spent with the other girls. She had also had an especially challenging week of assignments, including a 15-page paper that was turned in earlier that day. Needing to finally experience some fun after a full week in the Academic Center each night with Byulyi, the graduate student extended an invitation to Seungyeon and Sirae and they accepted. That was how they found themselves in her and Chorong’s living room, hours into a Friday night full of food, drinks, music, and good company.

It had been two weeks since **that** night with Seungyeon. Things were fine. They continued to hang out, continued to kiss if the mood hit them, and weren’t awkward with each other. At all. Even now, in the middle of _Never Have I Ever,_ they revealed some of their most embarrassing and risqué past deeds—well, Seungyeon and the others did, Yongsun hadn’t done much worthy of _Never Have I Ever_. She was mostly a spectator—but it wasn’t weird. Yongsun was grateful.

“When did you do that, Sirae, and how come I’ve never heard of this?”

“I told you about it, Seungyeon. Remember? That **one** time last year?”

“Oh! Never mind. I remember now. You used to be wild,” she chuckled.

“Used to. I’m retired now.”

“You talk like you’re ancient,” Chorong giggled.

“I am!”

“We’re twenty-four! I don’t know about you, but I consider myself young,” Yongsun’s roommate babbled.

Scrambling to find and answer her cell phone that suddenly started ringing, Yongsun stood and left the other three to their insightful conversation.

“Hey, Wheein. What’s up?”

“Unnie, are you home?” The younger girl’s melodic voice filled her right ear.

“I am, why?”

“We’re outside your door.”

She should’ve expected it. Wheein and Hyejin only ever called to inquire further about something they’d already done. Padding lightly to the door, the blonde welcomed her younger friends with open arms.

“What are you two doing here? I mean, come in, yes, but also, what are you two doing here?”

“We came to see what you and Byul-unnie were up to tonight, then we remembered she’s out with her teammates,” Hyejin rolled her eyes.

“Why do you sound so upset about that?” Yongsun smiled softly at Hyejin’s apparent annoyance with Moonbyul spending time with her basketball friends.

“She sees them all week during their trainings! Could’ve saved tonight for us.”

“To be fair, the three of us are usually out on Fridays. Guess she got tired of being the only one at home all the time.”

“You always defend her, unnie. Stop that.”

“I do **not**. I’m simply being fair.”

“Why is there fun happening, **with food and drinks**, yet we knew nothing about this?” Wheein didn’t care for the back and forth Hyejin and Yongsun were having. She was more interested, it seemed, in why Yongsun was having fun without them.

“Oh,” the graduate student tried to butter her up with a sweet smile. “Chorong and I had a couple friends over. Nothing major.”

“How cute. I’m waiting on an invitation and introduction,” the Fine Arts student stated with a saccharine voice and overdone smile of her own.

“Of course! Of course. Um . . . hey, everyone,” Yongsun interrupted Chorong, Sirae, and Seungyeon’s animated conversation. “These are two of my best friends, Wheein and Hyejin. They’re going to join us. Hope that’s okay.”

“That’s perfect! Join us. The more, the merrier. I’m Sirae, that’s Seungyeon. It’s nice to meet you both.”

The way both of the younger girls’ ears perked up at hearing Seungyeon’s name made Yongsun nervous. She’d mentioned the woman before, but hadn’t updated Wheein and Hyejin on the physical aspect of their relationship that had recently developed.

“You’re the one unnie is always out with, right?”

“I’m sure she hangs out with other people, too, but yes, we spend time together when we can,” Seungyeon expertly maneuvered around the question.

“Do you all want some food? Help yourselves, we have a lot left. The four of us were playing _Never Have I Ever_ before you arrived. I’m about to get Seungyeon out, but feel free to join for this last round anyway.”

“A bit too confident for my liking,” Seungyeon smirked.

“Never have I ever made out with someone in this room.”

Yongsun, Seungyeon, Wheein, and Hyejin all put a finger down. For Seungyeon, it was her last.

“Wait! Why did you two put a finger down?” Yongsun asked the younger girls, the slight shock evident in her voice.

“We’ve been friends since childhood, unnie. Things happened. Grow up.”

“Excuse **me** for being surprised at how casually you both dropped that on us.”

“Yongsun, you put your hand down, too! Who have you kissed?!”

Oh yeah, she hadn’t told Chorong either. Judging by who reacted to that last prompt, it was clear who she’d kissed, but her roommate was tipsy. Her lapse in comprehension was understandable.

“Unnie, you made out with Seungyeon-ssi?!”

The reactions were comical. The people in the room that had no idea about it wore varied expressions of shock. Sirae held a mischievous smirk, seemingly proud of the chaos she’d caused. Yongsun herself **knew** her face was beet red. She was speechless.

“So . . . it seems I really did lose. Not in kissing Yongsun, I definitely won at that, but the game. I lost the game,” Seungyeon broke the tension. “Going to take my shot now. Well played, Sirae.”

Yongsun was **so** grateful for her.

The ease with which the former basketball player handled that moment set the tone for the rest of the night. Yes, Yongsun knew she’d have to talk about it with Hyejin, Wheein, and Chorong later, but for the rest of the night, it was harmless teasing here and there, with most of everyone’s energy spent on singing, dancing, eating, laughing, and drinking. Everyone enjoyed themselves, and Yongsun couldn’t be happier.

About an hour before the get-together ended, Seungyeon asked if the two of them could talk in private. Heart thumping, Yongsun led the way to her bedroom, leaving the door behind them slightly ajar. She had no idea what it was the brunette could want to discuss, the uncertainty causing her stomach to sink. What if Seungyeon confessed? That would be the worst.

“Your room’s cute,” the taller woman casually complimented.

With a small voice, Yongsun responded, “Thanks.”

“Um . . . so . . . I’ve been talking to someone I met on a dating app and I was wondering if it’d be okay if I went on a date with her?”

Relief flooded her body.

“I was so nervous about what you had to say,” she clutched at her chest. “That’s completely fine with me. Seriously. You didn’t have to ask, though.” They weren’t dating. They’d had no discussions about dating. There were no plans to date Seungyeon. The graduate student felt no possessiveness over the taller woman. They were friends.

“I figured you’d be okay with it because we’re not, like, together or anything, but I wanted to make sure.”

“Well, thank you for asking. It was thoughtful of you to do that. But yeah, we’re not together. You can do your own thing. I mean, if things get serious between you and her or if the two of you get physical, then, yeah, definitely let me know so that you and I stop the kissing thing, but for the most part, you don’t need to run anything by me unless it affects my safety in any way.”

“Cool.” Seungyeon was contemplative for a moment. “It’s just a first date though. Nothing serious. It was casual conversation at first, then she asked me out, so I was considering it.”

“No need to explain. I hope it goes well! When is it?”

“She suggested next week.”

This was actually quite enjoyable for Yongsun. The moment it became clear that Seungyeon wasn’t confessing to her, she was able to breath again and enjoy the conversation. Leaving Seungyeon alone in the center of the room, the blonde made to sit on the end of her bed. Legs dangling, she leaned back on her hands, seemingly at ease.

“What are you two going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I told her I’d get back to her on if I could make it or not. Guessing she’ll tell me more when I tell her ‘yes’.”

“That’s exciting!”

“Why are you so excited about this?” Seungyeon stalked closer, standing between Yongsun’s legs.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You may find the love of your life.”

“That’s a bit much. She asked and I figured ‘why not?’ She’s a nice girl. If you asked me on another date, though, I’d definitely say yes. No hesitation.”

“**Another** date? We haven’t gone on any dates.”

“Two weeks ago. That was a date.”

“It was not! This is the first time you’re calling it a date. You can’t retroactively make something a date.”

“I paid for dinner and dropped you home! That’s a date,” Seungyeon challenged in a jovial manner.

“You always pay and drop me home!”

“Then we’ve been on tons of dates! You’re making my point for me.”

“Shut up!” Yongsun chortled. Things were uncomplicated with Seungyeon.

“Anyway,” the other woman playfully ignored her, “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Please do.”

“If, by chance, my time kissing you is coming to an end, though, we should make the most of every opportunity we have. Like right now,” her eyes were focused on Yongsun’s lips.

“Oh yeah?” The graduate student teased. Seungyeon said nothing, only nodding her head in response.

Wrapping her arms around the taller woman’s neck, Yongsun closed the distance between them, sighing contentedly into Seungyeon’s mouth when she felt hands firmly grip her hips.

Neither pushed things further, both women fine with the chaste kisses they shared.

“Unnie, we’re waiting on the two of you so we can play one last game. Stop making out with Seungyeon-ssi!” Hyejin shouted from the living room.

“I’m not making out with anyone,” she shouted back.

“We can hear you!”

That was a lie. She and Seungyeon weren’t making any noises.

Rolling her eyes, the blonde placed one last kiss on Seungyeon’s soft lips before hopping off her bed and leaving the bedroom with the taller girl in tow.

*

Yongsun’s caseload as an academic advisor at the Academic Support Center for Athletes had doubled this year. She was assigned to the Men’s Football team, responsible for supporting the academic and socioemotional well-being of ten first- and second-year athletes. Ten students meant eleven hours at the Center each week—each session was one hour long, but she met with one athlete twice a week.

Eleven hours at the Center each week and she had yet to schedule time with Director Choi to ask for career advice.

She saw the man every day.

Today alone, having had a five-hour shift, the two of them crossed paths several times, always greeting or making small-talk with each other, yet she never brought her job search up, completely blowing the perfect opportunity as he was out of the office for the next couple weeks. The next chance to talk to him wouldn’t be for a while. Yongsun promised herself, though, that when the opportunity presented itself again, she’d talk to him about her employment woes. Linking her pinkies together, she made it official that she’d follow through.

“What are you doing?”

Moonbyul’s groggy voice startled her. It was deep and raspy and hot.

_Hot_.

It’s a word that had been popping into her head more frequently when thinking of or seeing Byulyi.

_Hot_.

Her best friend was hot. It was driving her mad.

They both had a long Tuesday—Yongsun with work at the Center, and Moonbyul with basketball practice—choosing to end the day watching movies together on Yongsun’s bed. Actually, Yongsun was watching the movie, Byulyi was floating in and out of consciousness, exhausted, but content with letting the older girl rest on her chest. It seemed the brunette had opened her eyes in time to catch Yongsun doing the pinky thing.

“Huh?”

“Why were you linking your pinkies together?”

The low rumble of Byulyi’s voice resonating in her ear was more than satisfying for Yongsun, it was a turn on. She’d thought that messing around with Seungyeon would have helped curb her growing craving for physical intimacy, but it had done the opposite. The kissing and touching she did with Seungyeon only served to further fan her desire, made her wonder ‘what if?’ more often. What if she did with Moonbyul the things she did with Seungyeon? What would happen? What did her lips feel like? Was she a good kisser? She had to be, right?

Remembering that her best friend asked her a question, Yongsun finally responded. “I was making a pinky promise with myself.”

“Not even going to question it. What was the promise?”

“That I’d make a meeting with Director Choi when he gets back.”

“You still haven’t done that? It’s been three weeks since we last talked about it,” the athlete uttered, eyes closed again.

“I’ll do it when he gets back. Promise.”

“We’ll see,” Moonbyul doubted.

Yongsun knew she was slowly losing it when she even found the way Byulyi brushed her off to be hot. Things she’d normally hate now made her **want** Moonbyul. After their brief talk, the older woman went back to paying attention to the movie for at least half an hour before the craving for something sweet suddenly hit her. Gently shaking the athlete awake, Yongsun asked if she could run down to the vending machine in the courtyard and grab her a snack.

Byul’s answer was simply, “No.” That was it.

Yongsun waited for more, for an explanation. Normally, Moonbyul would complain for a little, then get up and get Yongsun the snack. This time, though, nothing else came. Her answer was “no,” and that was all. Truthfully, there were hints of this ever since Byulyi came back from Japan. She was bolder, more defiant and assertive. That’s what it felt like to Yongsun, at least. And she wanted so badly to hate it, but she couldn’t.

Bringing herself back to the present moment, Yongsun went to say something in response to Byul’s one-word rejection, but as she looked up to argue with the athlete, she lost herself in Moonbyul’s lips. It got her thinking again. If the younger woman made a move on her, she didn’t think she’d stop her. It would probably feel great.

Disappointment suddenly washed over her as she came back to reality and remembered that Byulyi would never make a move on her. Yongsun had thought about it. There had been ample opportunities for Moonbyul to do something. All they did was cuddle. If she’d wanted to make a move, she’d have done so by now. Of course, Yongsun didn’t have to wait for Byulyi, she could take the initiative and make a move, but she feared that would be setting herself up for rejection and embarrassment.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Moonbyul asked, catching the grad student’s eyes. “Watch the movie.”

“Byul-ah,” Yongsun whined.

“No. You have snacks in your kitchen, you don’t need anything from the vending machine.”

“Byul-ahhhhh,” she continued.

“Yongsun, no. I’m not getting up. That’s final.”

She **should** have been upset. Normally, she **would** have started a fight that ended up in Moonbyul leaving. All she did in the end was sigh deeply, drop the subject, and focus on the movie. There **was** a pout that lingered, but even that was wiped away when Byulyi placed a tender kiss on the top of her head a few minutes later.

*

Yongsun **really** needed that snack, though.

Easing herself off of Moonbyul’s body, the blonde walked lightly to her bedroom door, not wanting to disturb the younger woman deep in sleep. Once in the kitchen—she refused to go all the way downstairs to the vending machine, resigning herself to whatever she and Chorong had stocked up on—Yongsun went to rummage the cabinets above the kitchen counter when she caught sight of Chorong on the living room couch. She hungrily slurped some noodles from the bowl held in her hands, greeting Yongsun with a full mouth.

After successfully fetching her snack of choice, Yongsun joined Chorong in the living room, the two chatting each other up and filling each other in on their days. They talked and talked, getting a little too into the conversation it seemed, because Chorong let out a booming laugh, surprising even Yongsun.

“Shhh,” she covered her roommate’s mouth, “Byulyi’s sleeping.”

Certain that Chorong had calmed down, Yongsun removed her hands, growing confused when her friend started looking around as if she was searching for something.

“What are you looking for,” she asked cautiously.

“I was checking to see if maybe you were talking to someone else because I know you couldn’t have been speaking to me,” Chorong explained.

“You’re ridiculous,” Yongsun rolled her eyes, walking away for a moment to throw away her snack’s packaging.

“**I’m** ridiculous? You’re asking me to not make noise in my own apartment because someone that lives down the hall, that has her own room and bed within walking distance, decided to fall asleep here instead. I think **that’s** pretty ridiculous, Yongsun.”

“I didn’t say to not make **any** noise,” Yongsun grumpily mumbled.

“Ah, yes, just asked that I don’t make enough noise to disturb Sleeping Beauty Moon Byulyi.” Yongsun preferred Chorong’s indignation over the way her roommate was now critically scrutinizing her.

“What?” She asked testily.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“But you want to.”

“I do,” Chorong agreed, “but I won’t because you get sensitive whenever we discuss your precious Byulyi. Just know that I have questions and thoughts.”

“Well . . . thank you for not pushing it right now.” She hoped the gratitude was clear in her voice. She didn’t want to talk about what she knew Chorong was talking about, especially with the topic of the conversation only a hop, skip, and jump away.

“I’ll push it another day,” the brown-haired girl stood up, “just like I’ll push **her** out if she stays here another night. It’s like a third person lives here. I didn’t sign up for that.”

“She doesn’t hang around that often, Chorong. Stop exaggerating,” Yongsun followed suit and stood up, too.

“She’s been here every night this week.”

“Because you’ve been gone every night this week. She tries to avoid you,” Yongsun chuckled, Chorong following suit. “You’re on my case, but where have **you** been? Maybe you’re the one hiding a relationship.”

“Yeah, I sneak to Suwon every night to meet Eric.”

“Stop! It’s still too soon to be joking about that.”

“It was two months ago.”

“Too soon. It’ll always be too soon,” Yongsun cringed. With Chorong’s peals of laughter at her back, she headed for her bedroom, where—judging by the light snores more audible as she approached—Moonbyul was fast asleep.

*

It seemed Yongsun’s social responsibilities this semester, especially throughout the month of October, were as demanding as those of her academic and work life.

The weekend of Halloween festivities was especially busy for her. With the actual holiday falling on the same weekend as Midnight Madness, there was an unspoken agreement among all at SNU to celebrate it a week early. Midnight Madness was not to be compromised.

What that meant for Yongsun was back-to-back weekends of all-out partying. Making the rounds dressed as Cruella de Vil with Moonbyul as one of her Dalmatians was a blast. The athlete had been a good sport about it and they had the best time. They always did. Recovering the days after, though, was not as enjoyable. It was a chore.

She slept through most of Sunday and sleepwalked through her class and shift at the Center on Monday. By the time Monday evening came around, Yongsun was desperate for her bed. No workout with Taecyeon, no time with Moonbyul, all she wanted was to be left alone so that she could sleep. She should have known better than to think things would work out that favorably for her.

Comforted by the familiar sounds from the keypad as she typed in her apartment’s code, Yongsun powerfully swung the door open, only to be met by Chorong and Changsub setting up the living room.

“What are you two doing?”

“I told you she forgot,” Changsub facepalmed.

“Yongsun,” Chorong walked over to her. “We’re all having dinner tonight, remember?” It was as if Chorong was willing her roommate with her eyes to recall tonight’s plans.

“No idea what you’re talking about, Rongie.”

“Told you!”

“Shut up, Changsub. The whole crew is coming over for dinner tonight. We talked about this.”

“Whole crew? Everyone?” She asked carefully.

“Yeah, **everyone**.”

Chorong pulled her out of earshot for Changsub before asking outright what needed to be asked.

“Jinyoung’s coming. That’s why I asked you about it weeks ago. To make sure you were okay with seeing him.”

The two hadn’t been in the same room together since their breakup. It wasn’t that she harbored any ill feelings towards him, it was more that she was living her single life and didn’t feel comfortable doing that around her ex. It seemed her day of reckoning had finally arrived.

Heaving a sigh, she quelled Chorong’s concern. “It’s fine. I’m fine with seeing him.”

“Let’s come up with a code word in case you change your mind and need an excuse to leave.”

“He’s not even the bad guy. If anything, he should be the one you check on. I broke up with him, not the other way around.”

“He’s completely fine with it. I heard he’s excited that you’re going to be at dinner. He missed you,” Chorong softly added.

“Tell me honestly. Is he coming here thinking that there’s a chance we’re going to get back together?”

“From what I heard, no. But he **does** miss you. Maybe he just wants to be friends, I don’t know. The two of you should talk, though.”

“How long do I have until everyone gets here?” It was 6:20 pm.

“Ten minutes.”

“Ugh.”

“That’s the spirit!”

*

Maybe the rest of their friends planned things to work out as they did, because outside of a genial greeting, Yongsun and Jinyoung had no time left alone together. They either participated in full-group conversations or spent their time socializing with some of their other ’91 Club friends. That was, until Hodong excused himself to the bathroom and Chorong and Changsub ended up in the kitchen, engaged in a heated conversation about something.

Fine with biding time until one of the three returned to save her and Jinyoung from the awkwardness, Yongsun busied herself with responding to text messages and perusing her social media accounts. Eventually, her body chose to remind her of how tired she was. The yawn that escaped her could be considered nothing but obnoxious and rude.

“I’m so sorry,” she immediately apologized, hoping Jinyoung didn’t think she was being passive aggressive.

“Long day?”

“Long weekend.”

He hummed in understanding. “I saw your costume on Instagram. You looked great.”

“Thank you,” she shyly accepted the compliment, not sure what else to do or say.

“If you’re that tired, you should go to sleep. None of us would take offense to it.”

The blonde rested her phone face-down on the couch, giving her full attention to the young man on the opposite end. “I’m fine. Truly. I can push through.”

She counted three swallows and two neck rubs before Jinyoung nervously spoke up again.

“So . . . how’ve you been?”

Yongsun felt bad. There was no reason he should feel nervous talking to her. Despite taking time away from him after their breakup, she did sincerely hope that they could be cordial.

“I’ve been doing well,” she stated. “A lot going on, but I’ve been well. How about you?”

“Same. Trying to figure out life after graduate school.”

“That’s literally my life right now,” she exclaimed. Their eyes locked and she gave him a small smile, hoping he understood the proverbial olive branch she was extending. Combined with the effort Yongsun put in to maintain their conversation, it seemed Jinyoung understood that her intentions were genuine. She didn’t want it to be weird.

“Are you doing the Midnight Madness routine again this weekend?”

“Partially. I’ll be there for the roster introduction, but I’m skipping the concert and party on Friday. Made other plans. You?”

“Not this year. I’m swamped with schoolwork, and it’s not like I have a reason to go this year,” he tailed off. _It’s not like I have a reason to go this year_. Unlike last year when he went just for her, Yongsun thought. That was her wakeup call. The two of them couldn’t be friends or anything analogous to that if they continued to avoid the obvious: they’d have to discuss what their relationship moving forward would look like.

“What are you two talking about?” **Finally**, Chorong intervened.

“Midnight Madness. Yongsun was telling me that she isn’t going to most of the events on Friday.”

“Oh. Yeah! A friend of ours hosts parties. She has one on Friday, so a few of us are going to that instead.” Yongsun wore a bright smile at hearing Chorong refer to Sirae as a friend of hers.

“That sounds fun. I hope you both have a great time and stay safe.”

“Thanks, Jinyoung.”

That was the last time they shared alone until Jinyoung and the others left. He wished her well, expressing hopes that they could work towards talking as friends again. She shared that she hoped the same, too, and they left it at that. Only time would tell if they put action to their words and turned their hopes into reality.

Once their apartment door closed behind the guys, Chorong shooed Yongsun away, urging her to get some sleep. Her exact words were, “You look horrible. Go sleep, I’ll clean up.” And the blonde gladly accepted the clear insult because it granted her what she had yearned for all day—sleep.

Rushing through her nighttime routine, Yongsun made it to her bed in no time. She sent Moonbyul a message letting her know that she was going to sleep early and wished her a good night before dozing off to thoughts about the upcoming weekend.

It was hard to believe that a year had passed since the last Midnight Madness. So much had changed in that time. **She** had changed a lot in that time. And although Yongsun had no idea what the weekend would bring, her body tingled with excitement. No matter what came her way, the graduate student was determined to have fun. She was going to make sure that the weekend was one full of no regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people have asked about how far into the story we are, so it makes sense to address this for everyone instead of only in a few comments. I don’t have a chapter count, but based on the original outline of the story, things are more than halfway done. It dawned on me, though, that it may be best to expand on the original ending. If that’s the route I pursue, there will be a little more added on to the story, but we’ll see. I’ll ask for feedback when the time comes. Either way, all possible endings have been sketched out, so rest assured that I do, in fact, have an ending in mind. Things are happening for a reason.
> 
> Sending you all my best wishes. I hope that each of you finds the time today and every day to partake in some self-care. Oh! To all the people losing out on sleep to read this story, please don’t do that. Please sleep. The story will still be here when you wake up.


	29. [M] "SOrRy tO HeaR thAt"

Visits to the Coaches' Suite were always terrifying. Moonbyul had been to their office space countless times, yet, without fail, her nerves flared up whenever she’d cross the threshold to her coaches’ home away from home.

Coach Ok had summoned her. Requested that the senior come to her office at 4:00 pm.

It was 4:15 pm.

The polished oak wood door to the older woman’s room remained closed, no sign of life behind it, leaving Moonbyul with no choice but to continue fussing around on the black leather armchair in hopes of finding comfort.

“She’s still making you wait?” Coach Do, the Associate Head Coach, sang lightheartedly as she buzzed through the waiting room with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. Aside from this momentary commotion, the suite was empty. It wasn’t helping assuage Byul’s fears any.

“Yup. Still making me wait.” Chancing a glass at the office door behind her, Moonbyul lowered her voice conspiratorially and continued speaking with this woman before her. “She didn’t tell you what this was about?”

“She did not. That’s probably a good sign, though. If she was pissed at you for something, she would’ve ranted to us about it.”

“I’m trying to think if I fucked anything up.”

“Language,” Coach Do halfheartedly scolded. She was second-in-command but couldn’t be further from what most would assume a woman in such a high‑ranking position would be like.

Those in the know about anything related to college basketball considered 32-year-old Do Siwan in the vanguard of young coaches revolutionizing the profession at the collegiate level. During her time playing for Coach Ok at SNU a decade ago, Do was a high-scoring power forward feared by all defenses. Pursuing basketball post-college, she took her offensive prowess to various professional leagues abroad where she continued torching opponents with her fast-paced style of play until a knee injury prematurely ended her career as an athlete. Venturing to the other side of the clipboard, Siwan was offered a position on her alma mater’s coaching staff four years ago. Since then, she worked her way up the ranks by time and time again proving herself a genius at devising offensive schemes, as well as at developing players. She **cared** about basketball. She **did not** care about cursing, as evidenced by her fondness for doing it with and around her athletes.

“Since when do you care about cursing?”

“She may be listening. I have to pretend.”

“Can you, like, knock on her door her or something? I feel like she forgot about me.”

“Let me call her.”

Moonbyul watched as Coach Do balanced her coffee cup in her left hand and pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her sweatpants. Less than two minutes passed before the call was over.

“Did you knock on her door?” Siwan asked the athlete, already rolling her eyes in disbelief. No doubt she knew the answer to the question before asking.

Face growing pink, Byulyi gathered the coat and bookbag set beside her before shamefully making to head to Coach Ok’s office. “I thought she’d come get me when she was ready!”

“You act like a rookie sometimes,” the older woman sighed as she retreated to her own office located in the opposite direction. “Have fun with your talk. See you at practice later.”

“Wait! Are you going to be in your office after I get out?”

“Probably. Why?”

“Can we watch some film?”

“Sure. Whatever. Just come find me. Hurry up and go in. Don’t make her wait any longer.”

Left alone, Moonbyul apprehensively approached her head coach’s office door. Getting her bearings, her knuckles softly made contact with the wooden door.

“Come in.”

Gently easing the door open, Moonbyul steeled herself for whatever was to come.

“Hi, Coach. You wanted to see me?”

“Twenty minutes ago, yes,” she responded straightforwardly. Donning her signature ponytail, Ok Jungsoo didn’t once look up from her computer screen. The sound of sneakers squeaking and whistles blowing that came from the speakers made clear the woman was watching film.

“Sorry. Thought you were busy.”

“Mmm.” Shutting off her video, she directed the brunette to sit in one of the two empty chairs in front of her desk.

Watching her coach leisurely prepare herself for their conversation, Moonbyul was reminded that the discomfort she felt was one-sided.

“I have a couple things to talk to you about.” Noticing how hard the young woman swallowed, Coach Ok set out to reassure her. “Relax, Byulyi. It’s nothing bad. First, I wanted to ask you about the team. We haven’t checked in for the year yet about the status of things. Obviously, I see what I see and the coaches see what they see, but as the captain, tell me what you see. How’s the morale? How are people feeling? What are your thoughts on the structure of practices thus far? Anything.”

That line of questioning was a surprise to her. She knew what to expect as captain in terms of interacting with the other players on the team, especially the rookies, but Byulyi didn’t know that the title granted her access to candid conversations of this level with Coach Ok.

For the next forty-five minutes, the two women spoke basketball. Strictly basketball. Moonbyul’s apprehensions gradually dissipated, giving way to a more confident Moonbyul, a Moonbyul that spoke with conviction about her observations and opinions. When she challenged Coach Ok, the veteran coach listened, taking notes here and there. The experience overall was nowhere as painful as the senior once thought it would be. In fact, she felt more motivated after the discussion to connect with her teammates and learn their struggles so that she could accurately run them up the ladder to Coach Ok and the rest of the coaching staff. Byulyi had a myriad of ideas for ways to improve team dynamics this year, she just didn’t know that she could say them out loud to the adults in charge. Now that she knew, her excitement for the year of basketball ahead doubled.

Thinking that their conversation had come to a natural close, the younger of the two made to get up when Coach Ok’s voice made her pause.

“What are your plans for after college? Have you thought that far ahead yet?”

Immediately sitting back down, Byulyi answered. “Uh . . . I plan on applying to business school. Have been working on applications for a couple months now, actually.”

That drew a rare show of emotion from her coach. “Really?”

“Yes. Should I . . . not do that?” The reaction Moonbyul received was one of shock, leading her to question if she’d said something wrong.

“I have no opinion on it either way. Was surprised you didn’t mention playing professionally. A handful of teams have been reaching out about you. They hadn’t heard anything about what you were up to, so they contacted me.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. Some WKBL teams are heavily factoring you into their plans so they needed to know as they begin preparations for the draft. There are some teams abroad, too. Lots of interest.”

Unsure of what to do with this news, the brunette stayed quiet.

“You’re not saying anything. Why is that?”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Moonbyul answered honestly. “It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“It can be, but if you decide it’s something you want to entertain, we can help you. We have the network for that. I spoke to Coach Do and she’s more than willing to talk things through with you. Just let us know. Not right now, though. You all have your Midnight Madness this weekend so I know that that’s all any of you are thinking about at the moment.” Byul earmarked the tidbit about Coach Do for later.

“Ah, okay. Well, I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

“Sounds good. You don’t have to want to go down that path, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least point out that it’s a viable, and potentially very lucrative, option. That’s everything on my agenda for this meeting, though. You’re free to go.”

The woman was direct. She wasn’t one to mince her words, nor was she one for emotional outbursts and shows of affection, but every player that left SNU’s Women’s Basketball Team had nothing but great things to say about Ok Jungsoo. Every day, Moonbyul learned more and more why that was.

“Thank you, Coach. Seriously. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Byulyi,” she said with her eyes glued to her computer screen once again. “See you at 6:00 pm for practice.”

Excusing herself, Byulyi made a beeline for Coach Do’s office.

“You said you didn’t know what Coach Ok wanted to talk to me about!”

Looking up from her cell phone with a smirk, Coach Do responded, “Did I? Oh.”

“Coach Do!” The senior whined.

“It wasn’t my place to tell you. Besides, I should be the one whining, subjected to watching this nonsense. Come look at this compilation of you fucking up easy passes last year.”

“Language!” Moonbyul relished the opportunity to scold the elder woman.

“Coach Ok can’t hear this time. It’s fine.”

*

The energy around the team this year was intoxicating. An unbridled excitement—noticeable to anyone that entered their practice gym—hung in the air since official training began. Players dove for balls, set hard screens, clamped down defensively on each other during practices. Rookies brazenly challenged veterans. The competition was healthy, but not light in the least.

Everyone got after each other—the team this year was hungry. Moonbyul wanted to believe that winning a championship the year before lit a fire under returning players to repeat while inspiring newcomers to the team to work hard so that they, too, could experience the euphoria that accompanied being crowned the best in the country. It was more likely, though, that today’s all‑around exceptional performances boiled down to the team wanting to quickly get through the practices today, tomorrow, and Thursday so that they could get to the weekend’s debauchery. Whatever the reason, Moonbyul and the coaches were pleased that what resulted was a collective buy-in and focus.

The day’s training complete, Byulyi collected her phone from Yooa in a rush. She and Heeyeon were to have dinner together tonight, a rare occurrence given her roommate’s hectic schedule now that she was a graduate student. Momentarily, her mind darted to Yongsun. Heeyeon’s time constraints made Moonbyul all the more grateful for how often Yongsun made time for her. The older woman had a life of her own, jam-packed with responsibilities, yet she always replied to Byulyi’s messages, answered Byulyi’s calls, and carved out time that the two of them could spend together.

She suddenly missed Yongsun.

**To: Yong**

🥺 _8:11 pm_

**From: Yong**

??? _8:12 pm_

**To: Yong**

Just wanted to say hi. _8:12 pm_

**From: Yong**

Lol! Hi, Byulyi.

How was practice? _8:12 pm_

“Unnie!”

Interrupted mid-text, she whipping around to acknowledge whoever it was chasing after her in the hall. “Jungmin-ah. What’s up?”

“Sorry, I was confirming things with other team members and didn’t notice when you left the gym,” the second-year quickly explained as she pulled out a printed spreadsheet tucked under her left armpit.

“No worries. You needed something?”

“Room confirmations.”

“Ah, yes!”

Midnight Madness had a new addition to its lineup of events this year. It wasn’t an official event, but it wasn’t an unofficial event either. Born from years’ worth of concerns around the safety of intoxicated SNU students traveling between campus and downtown Seoul, the Men’s and Women’s Basketball teams took matters into their own hands, adding hotel afterparties on Friday and Saturday night into the mix.

Both nights’ official Midnight Madness parties were being held this year at Club Octagon in Gangnam. Housed within New Hilltop Hotel, the popular nightlife hotspot had several levels, one of which contained private rooms and a balcony overlooking the entire club. That was the designated VIP section. Working with the hotel to make it happen, each team also rented out one floor of hotel suites where the afterparties would be held. More importantly, though, the teams made the rooms available so that basketball athletes could reserve as many as they needed over the weekend for themselves and their friends. The hotel also threw in discounts for all SNU students, which Midnight Madness organizers hoped would be enough to compel non-basketball SNU students to purchase hotel rooms, too. If the afterparty and the discounts didn’t do the trick, the prospect of finding someone to shack up with all weekend in a fancy hotel surely, they hoped, would get people to arrange for a hotel room instead of driving drunk or putting themselves in other precarious situations trying to get back to SNU. Based on the whispers Moonbyul heard, the hotel was sold out, with other hotels in the area enacting their own discounts for college students.

It all sounded like a lot of work for those orchestrating things. Bless Jungmin’s heart for volunteering to take care of the Women’s Team’s hotel rooms.

“You asked for three suites, right, unnie?”

“I did, yes.”

“Okay, let me check this,” Jungmin mumbled. The poor thing was checking and double-checking the sheet to ensure her information was accurate. “Three premier suites, yeah? One under your name, the second under Heeyeon‑unnie’s name, and the third for Ahn Hyejin and Jung Wheein?”

“That is correct,” Moonbyul reassuringly responded. “How much do I owe?”

“There’s no fee. We were able to fundraise enough to cover all the rooms,” she furiously scratched information onto the page.

“Ah, so you mean a couple of parents paid for everything,” the senior suddenly understood.

“Yup. They actually bought out the Hilltop and a few other nearby hotels. All the advertised discounts aren’t real. Every student that paid for a room is going to get a refund. The parents responsible didn’t want it to be made public that they paid for everything, so the hotel made up the discount to lure people in. Not sure why they don’t want people to know, but they were adamant about it.”

It was sometimes intimidating to remember how wealthy some of her peers and their families were. Byulyi couldn’t fathom being able to offload thousands of dollars to buy out an entire hotel for a few days.

“Well, you’re doing a great job organizing this part of things. I hope you get to enjoy yourself this weekend.”

“Thanks, unnie. Rooms will be available starting Friday at 2:00 pm and we have them until 12:00 pm on Monday, so there’s no rush to leave on Sunday.”

“I feel like things are going to get rowdy.”

“One hundred percent,” the second-year giggled. “Okay. Wanted to make sure I got everything confirmed today so I can talk to the hotel representative tomorrow. Have a good night, unnie!”

“You, too, Jungmin.”

**To: Yong**

Sorry! Had to take care of s/t.

Practice was great!

Going to shower, then eat with Heehaw. Wyd? _8:20 pm_

**From: Yong**

Sounds like a good day.

Eating with Chorong now. Roomie night. _8:21 pm_

**To: Yong**

😷 _8:21 pm_

**From: Yong**

😂 😂 😂 😂

Go shower. I’ll ttyl. _8:22 pm_

**To: Yong**

🤗_8:22 pm_

*

Sprawled out in opposite directions on their living room couch eating delivery—it felt like the old days. The days where she and Heeyeon would get home from practice, sore and allergic to doing work. They’d throw themselves on the couch, turn on a basketball game, and talk shit about everything. This was the first night this school year that they hung out in such a carefree manner on a weeknight.

Byulyi had a high-level overview of her roommate’s life, but tonight, she learned the minutiae of Heeyeon’s everyday life as a graduate student—the professors that should’ve never become professors, the messiness and gossip amongst students, the real-world networking opportunities afforded to her from day one. Moonbyul painted a vivid image in her head of what life in business school might look like for her. The earlier conversation with Coach Ok ran back to her.

“Coach mentioned that pro teams were asking about me,” her eyes were glued on their television screen.

“I was wondering when someone would bring that up to you. You’d never mentioned it, so I didn’t want to push.”

“Since when do you not push,” the brunette gently nudged Heeyeon’s leg with her own.

“Since business school has been kicking my ass.”

“You just said while we were eating that you were doing well.”

“I am. Business school is still kicking my ass, though. This week is relatively light in terms of school commitments. I’m **so** ready to act like a fool this weekend.”

“Are the others coming?”

“Yeah. We’re all excited about it. All looking forward to cheering our little Byulyi on,” Heeyeon cooed.

“I’m not little!”

“You put on some muscle, but you’ll always be my little baby.”

“**Some** muscle?” Slightly offended, the senior stood up to remove her shirt and show off the results of her hard work. “I put on a lot of muscle!”

Even though she rolled her eyes, Byulyi knew Heeyeon couldn’t deny it. From the start of the summer to now, she had put on 4.5 kg of muscle, significantly toning up in the process, too. Most of the gains she saw came from improving her diet, specifically the significant reduction in sugar consumed, but her improved workout regimen contributed as well.

“If you play pro, you’re going to have to put even more on. They’ll eat you up like barbecue chicken. And please put your shirt on. Save that for this weekend.”

“I will not be taking my shirt off this weekend,” the younger of the two declared while defiantly putting on the article of clothing she’d so carelessly removed a few moments ago.

“Why not?! Can you live a little, please? It’s your last Midnight Madness as a college athlete. Remove the stick up your ass and have some fun,” Heeyeon barked from the couch.

“I can have fun without hooking up with people.”

“Yes,” her roommate sat up, “you can. But I’m tired of hearing you bitch and moan about how long it’s been since you last had sex. If you want sex, then have sex! You’ll be surrounded this weekend by women more than ready to do anything you ask of them, so ask things of them.”

The more she thought over Heeyeon’s words, the more accepting of the message she became. Maybe she **did** need to indulge a bit. Remembering Yongsun, the thought evaporated as quickly as it had formed.

“I don’t know,” she hedged.

“You’re **single**. There’s nothing wrong with you acting like you are. Look at Yongsun-unnie. She’s single and having the time of her life. Take a page from her,” Heeyeon smirked. She mentioned Yongsun on purpose. Moonbyul knew this. Heeyeon knew about her roommate’s feelings for the blonde and knew that comment would sting.

Noticing that the athlete hadn’t found the teasing even the least bit funny, Heeyeon sighed deeply before standing to tightly wrap her long arms around her friend’s form. Rarely did they express their affection for each other through physical touching, but it was obvious Moonbyul needed a hug. “Just tell her how you feel, Byul.”

“It’s not that simple,” the senior spoke softly, face pressed into Heeyeon’s chest.

“You’re killing yourself with this. It’s eating at you. Maybe if you told her, you’d carry less stress around. It may provide some relief.”

“I don’t know.” She truly didn’t know. There appeared to be no correct approach to things when it came to her feelings for Yongsun. Strong fingers firmly gripped her shoulders before Byulyi felt herself being held an arm’s distance away. Heeyeon’s large, brown eyes bore into her.

“If you don’t want to make your feelings known, fine. You don’t have to. But don’t close yourself off to all women. That’s not the way to deal with things.”

Her shoulders suddenly freed from Heeyeon’s grasp, Moonbyul massaged them as she watched the business school student raid the fridge for a drink.

“Is she coming this weekend?”

“For a little on Friday. Skipping the concert and party to go out with someone else.”

“A date?”

“No. Just a friend. She’s an old acquaintance from college.” Moonbyul considered hiding the displeasure in her voice, but this was Heeyeon. There was no point hiding anything from Heeyeon.

“You don’t like the girl?”

“I don’t know the girl.”

“You don’t know the girl, yet you don’t like the girl.”

Silence.

“Seek help, friend. This is not healthy.”

“Whatever.”

“My advice to you: the first girl that smiles at you on Friday night, take her to your hotel room and do her.”

“‘Horrible’ doesn’t even begin to describe that advice. It’s, like, atrociously bad advice.”

“Fine,” Heeyeon conceded, “the fifth girl that smiles at you. Take **her** to your hotel room and do her.”

“Goodnight, Heeyeon. We’re done here.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“I promise you I won’t.”

Wrapped in her comforter not even ten minutes later, rest did not come easy. It had nothing to do with fretting over the conversation she and Heeyeon had, but everything to do with the discomfort that came with sleeping alone. She just . . . wasn’t comfortable.

**To: Yong**

Wyd? _11:45 pm_

**From: Yong**

Sleeping. What do you want? _11:46 pm_

**To: Yong**

I can’t fall asleep. You spoiled me. _11:46 pm_

_Tell me to come over._

_Tell me to come over._

_Invite me to come over._

Holding her breath, Byulyi read Yongsun’s response.

**From: Yong**

How did I spoil you?! _11:46 pm_

**To: Yong**

I can’t sleep without you now 😓 _11:47 pm_

_Tell me to come over._

_Tell me to come over._

_Invite me to come over._

**From: Yong**

Try harder. _11:47 pm_

**To: Yong**

I’ve tried the hardest I could try…

Yong. Please? _11:47 pm_

Her resolve **had** to be crumbling, right? Moonbyul highly doubted that Yongsun had more-than-a-friend feelings for her, but she **knew** Yongsun enjoyed cuddling and falling asleep together. She’d bet her life on it. And if those were the crumbs she’d have to feed off of for now, she’d do it.

Not that she was proud of being this much of a creep. It was shameful. Very. In fairness to her, though, it wasn’t as if she let her feelings interfere with things. She chose to suffer in silence as a good best friend should.

**From: Yong**

🙄_11:48 pm_

**From: Yong**

Be there in five 😋 _11:48 pm_

Jumping out of bed with haste, Moonbyul threw on a sweatshirt and hopped into a pair sweatpants before nearly tripping her way down the hall to the shoe rack next to the apartment door.

“Where are you going?”

She hadn’t noticed Heeyeon on the couch.

“What are you still doing out here? Thought you were going to bed?”

“Never said that. **You** stormed off to ‘go to bed,’ yet here you are sneaking off into the night.”

“I’m not sneaking. I’m very openly and confidently walking out of the apartment.”

“To go to Yongsun-unnie’s apartment.”

“So?”

“You’re sick.”

Ignoring her friend’s warning, Moonbyul floated to the other end of the hall. Upon reaching Yongsun’s apartment, she let herself in and quietly made her way down the hall to her best friend’s slightly open door.

Poking her head into the nearly pitch-black room, the athlete whispered, “Yong.”

“What?” Yongsun whispered back.

“Nothing. Just didn’t want to scare you.”

“How would you scare me? You told me you were coming.”

“Okay.”

“Are you coming to sleep or not?”

“Yeah. Why’s your room so dark? Where’s your nightlight?”

“I was too lazy to put it on before going to bed. Plug it in for me, please?”

“Okay.”

Temporarily suspending their captivating whisper conversation, the athlete did as she was asked and plugged in the night light before getting comfortable in the graduate student’s bed.

Moonbyul highly doubted that Yongsun had more-than-a-friend feelings for her, but as she lay in Yongsun’s bed, holding Yongsun in her arms, she was fine with pretending—just for a moment—that that wasn’t the case.

*

Her phone buzzed incessantly against the thigh upon which it rested. Had to be the basketball team’s group chat, she knew that it **had** to be them. Since the concert earlier, Byulyi’s teammates had been spamming each other with questions and comments about the night to come. Based on the most recent pictures, messages, and jokes she’d briefly skimmed, most of the team’s members had arrived at the club at least an hour prior and were up to their worst behavior. Byulyi was among the few to not yet have shown up. With Yongsun off doing her own thing for the night, the senior felt it more her duty than usual to stick by Wheein and Hyejin’s side tonight and, apparently, sticking by Wheein and Hyejin’s side meant being an hour late for the party.

“It’s a club, unnie! The whole point is to be late. Fashionably late,” Hyejin spoke as if she were sharing with the athlete the most obvious piece of information.

“We are in the same hotel as the club. How are we possibly this late?”

“You’ll be fine. By the time we get there, everyone will be a little buzzed and a lot less annoying. Drink.”

“Wouldn’t more alcohol make everyone else more annoying?” Wheein emerged from the suite’s bathroom.

“If we drink, too, then they’ll be less annoying! Now, can you two stop asking questions and take your shots, please? Afterward, we’ll take a picture then we can leave. Simple.”

“Let’s cheers to that.”

“Good idea, Wheein. Make a speech.”

“To a good night and even better frien–”

“Wait. Yongsun-unnie isn’t here.”

“Insightful, Hyejin.”

“Let’s video call her! Byul-unnie, you do it.”

“Why me?”

“Because your phone is already out.”

The Jeonju girls downed their shots of Patrón as they waited for the video call to connect. Hyejin immediately refilled their glasses as they steeled themselves for another one in a few minutes.

“Hi, Byul-ah!”

“Yong, you’re yelling.”

“It’s loud! I have to yell.”

Smiling at Yongsun’s antics, the reason for Moonbyul’s call was long forgotten. She was content with admiring the beauty radiating through the screen—literally radiating. A stark contrast to the club’s dimmed background, Yongsun was like a ray of light. Long blonde locks fell in soft waves past her shoulders, clashing against the white, satin slip dress that so perfectly exposed her collarbones. Her perfect, sexy collarbon–

“Unnie!” Wheein wrapped one arm around Byulyi’s neck from behind as she held her alcohol in the other.

“Hi, Wheein-ah!”

“We were taking a shot together and wanted to include you. Where’s your drink?”

“My drink,” the eldest yelled again. Wherever she was, the music was drowned out a bit, a sign she was in a private room, but the loud chatter from those around her made communication a little more challenging. “Chorong! Where’s my drink? Oh! Got it.”

“Perfect.” She waited for Hyejin to join them before continuing. “As I was saying earlier, cheers to a good night and to even better friends who are more like sisters than anything else. Love you all. Unnie, come to the afterparty later. We miss you.”

“Everyone, drink!”

The other three wasted no time following the youngest’s command. With the smooth liquid down her throat in no time, Moonbyul tenderly admired Yongsun as she struggled with her alcohol.

“What’s with the grimace, Yong?”

“You know I’m not good at drinking,” the blonde pouted.

“Sometimes in life we have to do things we’re not good at. That’s how we grow.”

So caught up in her teasing, the athlete didn’t notice Wheein sneaking up once again, this time grabbing the cell phone from her hands.

“Unnie, you and Byul-unnie are like night and day. You’re wearing all white and she’s wearing all black.”

“Did you two plan this?”

“I promise we didn’t,” Byulyi took it upon herself to speak for the two of them.

“That makes it even more disgusting. Anyway, Yong-unnie, we’re going to take a picture before we leave for the club. Have fun tonight!”

“Bye! Have fun. I love you all!”

“She’s drunk,” the senior resumed her teasing.

“I’m not drunk, Byulyi! You’re so annoying. I take it back, I only love Wheein and Hyejin. Happy now?”

Getting under Yongsun’s skin was one of the athlete’s favorite hobbies. Gratification came from knowing she could so easily influence affect Yongsun’s mood and force her out of character. It made Moonbyul feel powerful knowing that she could get a reaction out of Yongsun whenever she wanted.

“You love me. Say it.”

“I don’t.”

“Look at me in my eyes and say you don’t love me.”

Nothing.

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

“Leave me alone,” Yongsun sucked her teeth.

“Hurry up! I have to go take this picture so we can leave. Hyejin’s going to yell at me!”

“Then get yelled at.”

“You’re so cute.”

“I know.”

“Ohhhhh! She knows,” Moonbyul called out her bluff. There was a pull at Yongsun’s lips. “You know you’re cute?”

“I do.”

“Okay. Well, I agree that you are, too. Go be cute and have fun, okay?”

“I will,” Yongsun continued to stubbornly look away from the screen.

“Bye, Yong. Love you even though you don’t love me,” she feigned hurt.

With the call ended, Wheein and Hyejin wasted no time voicing their thoughts on what had just transpired.

“That was gross,” they spoke in unison.

Moonbyul rolled her eyes. “Let’s take this picture and go.”

The three gathered everything they’d need for the night before leaving and locking up Wheein and Hyejin’s hotel room. Before they got into the elevator, Moonbyul’s phone buzzed once more.

**From: Yong**

Love you 🙄 _12:40 am_

**To: Yong**

🥰_12:40 am_

She’d take it.

*

The three waded through the mass of people, faces foreign to Moonbyul blurring together as she did her best to lead Wheein and Hyejin to the lift that would take them to the club’s upper level.

“Unnie!”

“Byul-unnie is here!”

A chorus of mostly unintelligible exclamations rang out when Moonbyul entered the room where most of her team was concentrated. Empty alcohol bottles and glasses littered the table at the room’s center. Her teammates were . . . everywhere. Some danced on the balcony that connected all private rooms, others were on couches screaming lyrics to the latest hit songs at the top of their lungs, and few were hidden in the room’s corners doing who knows what with who knows who. It was chaos and Byulyi loved it. This was the exact energy she needed tonight.

Somewhere between the video call with Yongsun and her arrival at the club, the athlete decided that she was going to have fun. This was the one weekend where everyone was on their worst behavior—it was encouraged, actually. And although she wasn’t quite ready to completely throw caution to the wind, Byulyi wanted to loosen up a bit, flirt a little and see where that led her.

“Unnie! Drink this,” Jungmin appeared suddenly.

“What is it?”

“Alcohol.”

“I figured. What kind?”

“Does it matter?” This was a new side to Jungmin. She was typically much calmer. Focused on her studies and basketball. Seeing even her behave this carefree was the final piece of convincing Moonbyul needed.

“You’re right.” Grabbing the glass offered to her, the older girl chugged its contents in one go. Savoring the remnants of coconut rum that still coated her tongue, Byulyi reveled in the warmth that the alcohol spread throughout her body. “This is good.”

“Right?! I don’t even drink much, but I’ve had about four of these already.”

“Four? Where is Aemin? Make sure to stick with her tonight, okay? If you’re going to be drinking this much, you **have** to stay with someone that will look after you.”

“She’s right over there. I was with her before I saw you.”

“Okay, good. I’ll walk you back to her.”

Once Jungmin was safe with another one of their teammates, Moonbyul called as much of the team together as she could and warned them all to have fun this weekend but to also look out for each other and make sure no one ventured off alone. She then got everyone a round of drinks, because how else to end a speech about safety than with excessive amounts of liquor.

“It’s safe because we’re drinking it **together**,” she reasoned, earning hoots and hollers from the group.

Half an hour later, Moonbyul left the room with Wheein and Hyejin to search the row of private rooms for one less congested. As she passed one room, she heard someone calling after her. Doubling back, she noticed Yooa standing to greet her.

“Unnie!” The younger girl crashed into her, an unexpected strength behind her embrace.

“Wow, you clean up nicely,” Byulyi noted. It was still surprising to see everyone dolled up. She was accustomed to them trudging to and from practice in sweats and sneakers.

“Thank you. You, too. You look **good**, unnie! How can such a simple outfit look so chic?” Moonbyul kept it simple tonight: a black t-shirt tucked into black slacks, with a black cap. If she was going to party for a full weekend, comfort was of the utmost importance. “Be on your best behavior, please. I don’t think the ladies could handle it if you unleash your charms on everyone,” the doll‑like girl joked.

“Me? I’m always on my best behavior. You know this,” the athlete smirked.

“Uh huh. Anyway, where were you going when I called you?”

“Was looking to find a private room for me and my friends. One of the girls mentioned that there might be an empty one down this way.”

“There are definitely none left. The emptiest one is this one, and that’s only because we closed the curtains and kept the door closed so no one would come in. We had just opened it for some fresh air when you passed by. It’s just me and a handful of friends here, though, you can join us.”

“Really? That would be great. Thank you!”

Grabbing Wheein and Hyejin from the balcony—the two were in their own world dancing to the song blaring throughout the club—and introduced them to Yooa and her friends. Yooa did the same with her friends.

Not long after she, Wheein, and Hyejin settled into the room and began socializing with partygoers that filtered in and out, Heeyeon and the other ’92 Club members arrived, elevating the levels of fun to new heights. They quickly ingratiated themselves with everyone, keeping the mood light and welcoming with their jovial attitudes. Seokjin, in particular, took it upon himself to care for everyone, making sure no glasses were empty and ordering appetizers for everyone. Coupled with the DJ for the night playing music that made it impossible to not dance—mostly hip-hop and R&B with some Caribbean tunes sprinkled in every now and then—everything was perfect. Well, almost perfect. Yongsun wasn’t there.

Whenever she missed the older girl, Moonbyul would usually send a quick “wyd?” text message or spontaneously call her. However, including the pregame with Hyejin and Wheein in the hotel room, the athlete had been drinking for about three and a half hours now. She wasn’t drunk, but each drink buffed away her inhibitions until they were fully numbed, giving way to brazen confidence. The Moon Byulyi of tonight did not mince her words. If she missed Yongsun, she was going to say so.

**To: Yong**

Are you coming to the afterparty?

Come. I want to see you. _3:03 am_

Around 2:00 am, Yongsun said she and Chorong were on their way home. Since then, it had been radio silence. Not a word from the older woman, not even when she asked Yongsun how the night had gone. It was infuriating. Throughout the night, she’d made the acquaintance of several women, all of whom made it clear that they were interested in her—they danced on her, touched her, said things that implicitly and explicitly suggested they wanted to know her in the biblical sense. And she let them. Each and every woman that night that approached her, Moonbyul entertained—she got them drinks and flirted aggressively because they were all beautiful and extremely attractive. Her actions weren’t out of obligation, she was attracted to them. She liked them. But she liked Yongsun more, and it was pissing her off just little that these strangers could shower her with attention, but her best friend couldn’t even text her back.

“Why are you on your phone again?” The raspy voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine. Moonbyul had grown familiar with that voice throughout the night. Of the women pursuing her, the owner of that voice was the most persistent. Hwang Jiah. Her name sounded almost as seductive as she was.

Yooa introduced them to each other and, from the way Jiah raked her large brown eyes over Moonbyul during that introduction, the senior figured something would happen between the two of them. The way the night progressed gave credence to that assumption. The younger girl was the first to approach Byulyi, striking up a conversation about how their outfits “matched”. Like the athlete, Jiah was wearing all black, but it was her long, fair-skinned legs that anyone taking her in would first notice. Emphasis on **long**. The black fitted dress Jiah wore completely covered every other part of her body but stopped mid-thigh, emphasizing her legs. Moonbyul was immediately intrigued, especially by the high slit on the right side of the already-short dress—it went up to her hip. It was hot.

Once their mutual attraction became obvious, the basketball star approached Yooa for permission to chat her friend up.

_“She’s not really my friend. She’s more a friend of a friend of a friend. We’re acquaintances, I guess.”_

_“That doesn’t sound very encouraging.”_

_“I just mean she’s not close enough for it to be weird between you and me if anything happens with you and her.”_

_“Is she, like, a good girl, though?”_

_“Unnie,” Yooa chuckled, “it doesn’t seem like you’re looking for a good girl tonight, and she doesn’t seem interested in being one. If what you really want to ask is whether or not she’ll keep her mouth shut should you two hook up, I don’t have an answer. That’s something you’ll have to consider when deciding on things. She kept bugging me to introduce you to her as soon as you arrived earlier, so I made the introduction. I don’t know anything about her intentions.”_

Basically, this girl was a risk. A potential loose end. But a sexy one, so Moonbyul entertained her. Flirting wasn’t a crime.

“I’m on my phone because you’ve been ignoring me,” she turned her head to the right to pout at Jiah. Being daring, Byul rested her right hand on the black-haired girl’s exposed left thigh, thumb softly tracing patterns. “I feel neglected.”

“Tell me how to make it up to you.”

“You decide,” the athlete replied, voice thick with desire.

She couldn’t lie, it was unbelievably exciting waiting to see what Jiah would do, how she would push things. The girl was daring and Moonbyul found it thrilling. The one thing she wouldn’t do tonight was have sex with some girl she met in the club, but this intense back and forth? She was fine with it for the moment.

Sitting with her head resting against the back of the couch, the senior attentively watched as Jiah slowly left her seat to position herself between Byul’s slightly parted legs. Riding the rhythm of the mid-tempo R&B song currently playing, the younger girl began gyrating her hips, eventually settling in Moonbyul’s lap and continuing with the lap dance she’d started.

Thankfully, their room began clearing out half an hour ago—people were making their way to the basketball floors for the afterparty—but even if the room was packed wall-to-wall, Moonbyul would not have cared who was watching. This felt **good**. Desperately clutching at the seat cushions on either side of her, the athlete sat back and indulged in the moment. She needed Jiah’s impressive hip movements to never end.

A change in song brought with it a premature end to Byulyi’s pleasure, though. Internally cursing the DJ, she clutched at Jiah’s waist, silently begging her to stay seated.

“Did I make it up to you?” The doe-eyed young woman seductively asked, turning to hold Moonbyul’s gaze.

The senior, who didn’t trust her voice, simply nodded.

“Good,” Jiah whispered. “My friends messaged me. They’re leaving, so I have to go. I had fun, though.”

“Me, too.”

Neither made moves to break eye contact or leave the position they were currently in.

“You said you have to go but you’re still here,” Byulyi smirked. “Can’t get enough of me?”

“I can’t. I need more.”

Moonbyul could play, too, though. “So come get more.”

The desperation in Jiah’s eyes. Byulyi fed on that. She loved it. As the third-year eagerly leaned in, Moonbyul sat back, making the younger travel farther to join their lips. Taken aback at first by the vigor with which Jiah’s tongue entered her mouth, Byulyi gently grabbed hold of the girl’s face, gaining control of the situation and the pace of their lips’ movements. Jiah was leaving. Moonbyul and her friends were also probably leaving soon. There was no need to fan the flames of their desire to levels beyond control.

Placing one last peck on the young woman’s plump lips, Moonbyul initiated their separation. “Your friends are probably getting tired of waiting for you. I’ll let you go now.”

She watched attentively as Jiah exaggeratedly strutted away—most likely certain that Moonbyul would be watching—before picking up her phone from where it lay next to her on the black leather couch.

No message from Yongsun. What the fuck.

It was possible the graduate student fell asleep, but she always texted Moonbyul before doing that, and Moonbyul doubted she’d choose to break that habit tonight of all nights.

**To: Yong**

You sleeping?

Come to the afterparty.

New Hilltop Hotel.

If you come, my room is 815. You can stay with me. _3:47 am_

“Ohhhh. Look who it is. Playgirl Byulyi.”

“You’re drunk, Heeyeon.”

“I am,” the taller of the two cried out. Plopping herself next to Moonbyul, she spoke with a bit of pride. “Even so, that was impressive. Where’d you find her?”

“She came to me.”

“You took my advice! Found the first girl that smiled at you and now you’re gonna do her!”

“I am **not** gonna do her. It was just kissing.”

“You still broke your rule.”

“I did not. I said I don’t like having one-night stands with people. That means sex. I didn’t have sex with her.”

“It sounds like you changed your rule, but I’m too drunk to remember. Still. That was impressive. I guess when the cat’s away, the mouse will play. Or . . . is it, ‘When the mouse is away, the cat will play?’ But that doesn’t make sense, the cat would play whether the mouse is there or not. It wouldn’t let a mouse stop it . . . so then it’s the mouse that’s affected, right? I think it’s the mouse. So, yeah, when the cat’s away, the mouse will play. You’re the mouse. Yongsun-unnie is the cat.”

“You’re babbling. Time to get you into your bed. Where are Hyejin and Wheein?”

“Over there with Sandeul and the rest of the guys.”

“Let’s go get them and go upstairs to the hotel, okay?”

“Okay,” Heeyeon murmured.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“I had too much fun tonight.”

“That’s good. We’ll get you in bed so that you can have more fun tomorrow night, too, okay?”

“Love you, Byulyi.”

“Oh, you’re **drunk** drunk. Got it,” the senior quipped.

*

The visit to the afterparty was supposed to be quick.

After tucking Heeyeon in, Moonbyul visited Wheein and Hyejin in their room. The two weren’t ready to sleep yet; they wanted to check out the afterparty for a little.

“Half an hour. That’s all I can give you two. It’s after four in the morning. I’m tired. If you want to stay longer, you can, but I only have thirty minutes in me.”

“That’s enough for me,” Wheein excitedly agreed. “Hyejin?”

“That’s perfect. We can dip in and out.”

More than thirty minutes had passed. They were still at the afterparty in a suite belonging to one of her teammates, and it was entirely Moonbyul’s fault. Well, Moonbyul and Jiah’s fault. Moonbyul, Jiah, and Jiah’s dress’s fault.

Upon entering the fancy suite, Byulyi made her rounds and greeted everyone she recognized—there were **a lot** of random people. At some point, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist from the side. It was Jiah. The two spoke briefly before the younger girl made it clear that she wasn’t interested in talking. One thing led to another and that’s how the athlete found herself in the bathroom standing between Jiah’s legs, the young woman’s lips glued to her neck.

This was **not** part of the plan. The way the black-haired minx devoured her with her eyes, though . . . Moonbyul could only take so much. As for her outfit, she’d changed her clothes. Still wearing a black dress, but, if possible, this one was shorter than the dress she wore in the club, just barely covering her backside. Barely. The dress’s off-the-shoulder design revealed her décolletage and arms, one of which held a tattoo on the forearm. It was a lot to take in. She tried her best, but the young woman’s chest magnetically drew Byulyi’s eyes in their direction. She **tried** to be respectful and not outright ogle Jiah, but her efforts—to the other’s delight—proved futile. She was pulled into the bathroom and that was that.

“Your lips feel so fucking good,” the athlete groaned. “Damn. Come here.” With her left gripping Jiah’s waist, Moonbyul roughly grabbed her face with her right hand, pulling the younger into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. It was a mess, not even in a sexy kind of way, in a slobbering animal kind of way, but neither cared as they were both too caught up in things for their actions to be driven by their heads. Everything was hormone-fueled.

Content with being taken along for the ride, Jiah squealed and laughed when the senior wrapped arms underneath her legs and sat her on the sink’s countertop, not once breaking the contact their tongues were making.

Encouraged by the legs that were tightly wrapped around her waist and drew her closer, Byulyi let her hands roam free. After the third time of grazing Jiah’s breasts, Moonbyul went for it, grabbing and massaging two palmfuls.

“Oh my god, Byulyi! That feels so **good**,” Jiah breathlessly moaned. She, too, allowed her hands to roam free, desperately clawing at Moonbyul’s muscular back and broad shoulders.

Things stayed there for most of their bathroom rendezvous—touching above clothes with lips ferociously clashing.

Then one of Jiah’s hands went to between Moonbyul’s legs. Without thinking, Moonbyul copied her actions, completely forgetting—or maybe choosing to overlook—that while she was wearing pants, Jiah wore a flimsy dress. The younger girl’s fingers met fabric, Byulyi’s found warm thighs and moisture. Jiah was wet. The barely‑there underwear that separated the athlete’s fingers from Jiah’s most intimate area was soaked.

“Fuck,” the senior groaned into her partner’s neck. “You’re so fucking wet.”

“Please,” Jiah pleaded as she began grinding against the fingers that so perfectly teased her. “Please, Byulyi. Please.”

_“I’m not gonna do her.”_ Those were her words to Heeyeon earlier. She’d uttered them so confidently at the time. How foolish of her. It was easy then, Jiah had already left at the time. Now, as her fingers brushed against a swollen clit, her resolve was crumbling.

“Please fuck me. I’m begging. Please,” Jiah breathed into Moonbyul’s ear, sucking on her earlobe afterward.

She was going to stop. She was going to stop. She had to stop. It was wrong to leave someone hanging the way she was about to leave Jiah hanging, but she **had** to stop.

Byulyi began retracting her right hand.

Strong thighs clamped together, holding her hand in place.

“**Please** don’t stop.”

Attempting to placate her somewhat, the senior hungrily mashed her lips against Jiah’s. “We have to stop.”

“We don’t.”

“We do. I’m not going to finger you in a bathroom. That’s gross.”

“Then let’s go to my room. It’s a few floors down.”

“We can’t.” A moment of tense silence. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed things this far.”

She watched with trepidation as Jiah threw her head back, a small grumble escaping her before she collected herself and sat up.

“Fine.”

“Are you mad?”

“Frustrated. Sexually.”

“Here, let me help you down.”

They helped each other look presentable before Moonbyul encouraged Jiah to leave first. Once gone, she caught her breath and chastised herself for being so damn dumb.

She had given herself the greenlight to loosen up a bit and have fun this weekend, not to almost fuck the friend of a friend of a friend in the bathroom of a suite full of her teammates and other strangers. Luckily the bathroom was tucked away enough that it was possible not many people heard them.

At the last second, Moonbyul remembered it would be for the best if she washed her hands, so she did. Needing to get out of there and into her own bed, she exited with the intention of grabbing Wheein and Hyejin to leave.

*

Nothing was going according to plan.

She wanted to **leave**. The way things ended with Jiah felt like a sign that her night needed to be over. As time went on, Moonbyul felt she was acting more like an idiot.

The suite wasn’t as packed as when she’d arrived, but there were still enough people mulling about that it was tough to find Wheein and Hyejin. Byulyi thought to search one of the far corners, but spotted Jiah and friends at the last second. Yeah, no, she wasn’t going over there.

“Yonsun-unnie!” She heard Wheein exclaim and immediately darted her eyes to the opposite side of the room where the door stood. How and why the hell was Yongsun showing up at 5:00 am when she hadn’t responded to any of her text messages since 2:00 am?

It couldn’t be helped, though, the part of her irked with the graduate student’s behavior was overpowered by the part of her that desperately wanted to sweep her best friend up into a strong hug.

Making her way to the entrance, she called out, “Hey, stranger.”

“Byulyi! Hi!” Yongsun gave her the brightest smile but restrained herself at the last minute.

“No hug?”

“No. I’m annoyed with you.”

“That’s our cue to leave. See you two when we wake up.” Sensing a fight, the youngest two made a quick exit.

“With me? I should be the one annoyed with you. I was texting you since earlier and you never answered.”

“I called and messaged you back like thirty minutes ago and **you** never answered! Had to ask Wheein and Hyejin where you all were because you wouldn’t pick up.”

She was with Jiah. Damnit.

“I didn’t feel my phone vibrating. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me,” Byulyi cupped Yongsun’s chin and bent down so that they could be eye-to-eye. “Please?”

Yongsun slapped her hand away but said nothing else about it meaning Moonbyul was forgiven.

“Why didn’t you answer when I messaged you, though? And how did you get here?”

“Um . . . I forgot my phone in my bag for a while. We went home and spent some time chatting. I wasn’t thinking about my phone.”

“And how did you get here?” Yongsun was dancing around that part.

“Seungyeon dropped me off,” she hesitantly answered.

“How did she drop you off in Gangnam at 5:00 am when you were home after 2:00 am?” The story wasn’t adding up and Moonbyul felt herself growing more irritated as the seconds passed.

“She dropped me and Chorong home, we all hung out, I eventually saw your messages and decided to come, she offered to drop me here.”

That didn’t sound like the whole story, but she was tired and grateful that Yongsun even came at all. She could’ve stayed home. The senior decided to drop the subject.

“Did you bring a bag?”

“No, I’ll just sleep tonight and head back to SNU when I wake up.” Yongsun came all this way just to spend the night with her.

“I’ll give you clothes to sleep and I’ll drive you back when you’re ready to go. My car’s parked in the lot. Are you hungry right now? Want anything to eat?”

“There’s food?” Yongsun excitedly asked.

“There’s none here, but if you want some I’ll go get you some.”

“Why are you so sweet?” The older woman caressed Byulyi’s face. “And yes, I want food. I’m so hungry.”

“Cool. Wait here. I’m going to ask my teammates if they want anything. Might as well get some for them, too.”

Only a few of her teammates put orders in, making things much easier on Moonbyul’s wallet. Taking note of one last request, the athlete geared up to collect Yongsun and leave.

“You’re **still** here? I thought you would’ve left by now.”

“Yeah,” she laughed nervously, “I’m actually leaving soon. Getting some food for people and then I’m calling it a night.”

“And you didn’t ask me if I want anything? I’m still hungry,” Jiah seductively stalked closer. It felt like the young woman wasn’t talking about food.

Warning signals went off in her head. She needed to leave ASAP.

“Sorry to hear that. Um . . . if you’re hungry for **food**, I can get you something.” Jiah wasn’t cooperating. Completely ignoring what Moonbyul had just said, she pulled the older girl’s face down, attempting to give her a kiss. At the last second, her lips met with Moonbyul’s cheek instead.

“So now I can’t even get a kiss?”

“It’s not that,” she nervously refuted, “I’m just . . . in a rush trying to get everyone’s orders so I can go get the food.” She needed to put an end to this soon.

Jiah’s eyes weren’t on her, though, they were following something behind her. Once Moonbyul felt arms wrapping around her from behind, it dawned on her that it wasn’t something the other girl had been observing, it was someone.

“Byul-ah, I’m hungry. What’s taking so long?”

Moonbyul had no answer. The way Yongsun ran her fingers back and forth across her stomach was maddening. It rendered her speechless for a moment.

“Oh, I get it,” Jiah spat. “Your girlfriend’s here so you’re trying to act like you don’t know me now. Acting as if you weren’t trying to fuck me in the bathroom earlier.”

“Are you serious right now? I was not trying to fuck you in the bathroom.” Turning frantically to Yongsun, she repeated herself, “I was not trying to fuck her in the bathroom.”

“So I imagined your hand between my legs? I made that up?”

_“If what you really want to ask is whether or not she’ll keep her mouth shut should you two hook up, I don’t have an answer. That’s something you’ll have to consider when deciding on things.”_

Well. She clearly hadn’t thought things all the way through. **This** was why she preferred to not mess around with random people. There was no reason for a little kissing and touching to turn into this weird standoff that was now taking place. There was no need for any of this.

“I’m not even going to entertain this right now. This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you trying to make me sound weird because you have another girl around right now. You’re trying to make me out to be the bad person when I didn’t do anything wrong!” She was yelling and drawing attention to them, causing a commotion. The best Moonbyul could hope for now was for everyone listening in to forget about this by the time they woke up. The last thing she needed was more rumors about her and her “playgirl ways” spreading around.

“You’re causing a scene for no reason. I’m just going to walk away.”

“For no reason? If you had a girl, you could’ve said that instead of playing around with me and then playing dumb now.”

“Okay, Jiah. As I said, you’re making a scene for no reason. I’m walking away now.”

Leaving the scene hand-in-hand with Yongsun, she didn’t stop until they were in the hallway by the elevators. The graduate student hadn’t uttered a word throughout the entirety of the exchange with Jiah. Moonbyul cleared her throat once. Twice. Three times before able to say anything.

“Sorry about that. Are you okay?”

“I’m hungry. I just want some food,” she sighed.

“Okay. I’ll get you some food.” Moonbyul nervously tapped her legs and raked her free hand through her hair.

She and Yongsun didn’t mention the incident at all after that, and Yongsun **did** let Moonbyul hold her that night as they slept, but the athlete couldn’t help but feel as if she’d done something wrong or disappointed Yongsun in some way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao, who uses the words “minx” and “backside”? There was supposed to be more, but this was already getting long and there’s more than enough in this chapter to pick apart as is. Have fun with that.


	30. [M] Regression

Party with SNU students or party with people that wanted to be nowhere near SNU students. That was ultimately what Yongsun’s decision came down to.

She chose the latter.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult choice. The first night of Midnight Madness—the concert, the club—she’d been there and done that. Aside from the addition of the hotel afterparty, things were a carbon copy of the year before. She didn’t see the value in doing the same thing twice, especially when presented the option of experiencing the night from the perspective of those wholly uninterested in anything SNU-related. In the words of Seungyeon, one of those wholly uninterested in anything SNU-related, “Not everyone wants to be surrounded by SNU kids. It’s actually one of my worst nightmares.” A bit harsh, and no doubt linked to the one-sided animosity that SKKU had towards the prestigious university, but the former athlete wasn’t wrong. SNU was not the center of everyone’s world.

It wasn’t as if Yongsun was putting the prospect of clubbing with non-SNU folks on a pedestal either. She’d done that several times, too. It wasn’t a novel activity for her given how often she, thanks to Sirae, had frequented clubs and bars around the city and away from campus. With Midnight Madness being as massive of an event as it was, though, clubs and lounges throughout the city were stepping their game up in hopes of attracting those looking to start their weekend with a bang . . . but with a bang away from the college students that infested the city.

The party Sirae hosted was in Hongdae at NB2, one of the biggest hip-hop clubs in Korea. Clubs were usually packed on weekends, but tonight, it was next level. Between the people sandwiched in and the smoke from everyone’s cigarettes, there was barely any room to breath. She, Chorong, and Seungyeon stayed in the private rooms away from much of the commotion, but when even that became unbearable an hour into their time there, the trio took their patronage across the street to NB1, the smaller, but much-easier-to-breathe-in affiliate club to NB2. Most of their night was spent there, mingling and enjoying the easy-going atmosphere. The music was excellent and no one in the crowd thought themselves above dancing. All in all, the night was a lot of fun.

As a graduate student, Yongsun didn’t usually feel too far removed from undergraduates. There were a few pop culture things that her friends—usually Wheein and Hyejin—schooled her on, but that aside, she wasn’t much older than those experiencing college for the first time. In fact, there were a good number of undergraduates that were her seniors in age. She felt ancient, though, as a heavy yawn tore through her body. It was only around 2:00 am.

“You okay over there, granny?” Chorong shouted over the music.

“I’m not a granny!”

“You’re yawning like one. It’s still early.”

“I’m tired. It’s been a long week.”

“Do you want to leave?” Her roommate’s voice softened.

“That’s not fair to you and Seungyeon. I don’t want to ruin your night. I’ll head back, the two of you can stay.” Yongsun stood to collect her things. She saw Chorong open her mouth to protest, but another voice cut in before she could do so.

“What’s going on?” Seungyeon asked, eyebrows furrowed from confusion.

“Yongsun wants to leave.”

“Why?” She directed her question at Yongsun this time.

“I’m tired.”

“Getting up there in age, huh?” The taller woman joked.

Rolling her eyes, Yongsun continued putting her coat on. “Chorong already made an age joke, you ass.”

Yongsun laughed as Seungyeon easily parried her fist.

“Well, I guess we’re leaving,” Seungyeon concluded.

“You don’t have to leave,” Yongsun followed her, looking to stop the brunette from putting her outerwear on, too.

“How else are you supposed to get home?”

“You’re not my chauffeur, Seungyeon.”

“Correct. I’m not your chauffeur, I’m your friend. There’s no way I’d let you leave the club by yourself at two in the morning to find your own way home.”

“I won’t be alone. Chorong will go with me.” Her roommate didn’t have to say it, Yongsun already knew. Despite the jokes, Chorong was tired, too. They’d **both** had a hectic week, and while her friend went through the motions of bobbing her head to the catchy beats that filled the club, Yongsun knew that their four hours out was more than enough to scratch Chorong’s out-on-the-town itch for the night.

“Chorong would prefer a ride,” the girl herself piped up.

“Why are you talking in third person?”

“Why are you trying to turn down a ride?”

“Because I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“Okay!” Seungyeon ended the graduate students’ back and forth. “Yongsun, you’re not being an inconvenience. Stop being ridiculous. Chorong, put your coat on and get your bag. The two of you can wait in the lobby while I go get the car.” With that, Seungyeon was off.

Neither Yongsun nor Chorong said anything as they obediently followed Seungyeon’s instructions and made their way through the darkened room to the club’s lobby. Once they found a spot to wait in, though, Chorong wasted no time stating what they were both thinking.

“That was hot. She’s hot.”

“Yes, it was, and **yes** she is.”

“You should do her.”

“Huh?!”

“I said you should do her. Is she always like that? Commanding?”

“A lot of the time, yeah, but in a laid-back way. It’s hard to explain. Byulyi’s kind of like that, too.”

At the mention of her best friend, Yongsun sent a quick text.

**To: Byul-ah**

Chorong and I are heading home now.

I’m old and can’t hang 😢

Hope you’re having fun! _2:17 am_

After theatrically making a gagging noise, Chorong steered the conversation back to where **she** wanted it to go. “This isn’t about Moonbyul. This is about Seungyeon in all her beautiful, hot, commanding glory. She’d be perfect to lose your virginity to. Gentle and patient, but assertive at the same time.”

“You’re sounding a little hot and bothered over there,” Yongsun tried to laugh the conversation off. Seungyeon was everything Chorong had said she was, but the conversation was heading in a direction she was not prepared for.

“I’m a lot hot and bothered, honestly.”

“Should’ve found someone tonight to take care of that for you.”

“I did. Her name’s Seungyeon.”

“Speaking of Seungyeon, what is taking her so long?”

“Don’t try to change the topic,” the light-brown haired woman sternly responded.

“I’m not changing the topic,” Yongsun defended herself. “You want Seungyeon, go get Seungyeon.”

“The two of you are in, what? An open relationship?”

“No. We’re not in any relationship.”

“Why not?”

“Oh my goodness, Chorong! Seriously, what is your deal?”

“My deal is that she’d be great for you.”

“You said the same thing about Jinyoung.”

“And I was right! He was a great first boyfriend. She’d be a great first girlfriend.”

“I’m **not** looking for a relationship with anyone right now,” Yongsun spoke slowly and calmly. She needed her friend to drop it.

“Fine,” Chorong rolled her eyes and childishly crossed her arms with a pout. “At least consider sleeping with her. Imagine her barking orders at you. That would be so hot,” a soft smile was painted on her lips.

“You’re sick.”

“For putting in more work to get you laid than you put in for yourself? Guilty. You’re acting like you’ve never thought about it when I know for a fact that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Chorong was right. Yongsun and Seungyeon had **never** gone beyond kissing. There were hands on hips, never any touching of private parts, but the blonde had wondered from time to time if they’d ever cross that unspoken line and, if they did, who the one to initiate things would be. Although her mind was racing, Yongsun hadn’t said anything out loud in response to Chorong’s claim. Satisfied with the silence, Chorong dropped it.

Seungyeon eventually arrived, offering an apology for how long it took her. Yongsun and Chorong waved her off and settled into the car, Chorong taking shotgun. If anything, Yongsun was grateful. It gave her time to sit in the back and think while her friends held a conversation amongst themselves.

*

“Finally! You’re back! It’s my turn now. Keep Seungyeon company,” Chorong instructed as she lifted herself from their couch and left for her bedroom.

The first thing Yongsun did upon reaching her apartment was take a shower. The clouds of smoke that filled the club had clung desperately to her clothes and hair and she was adamantly against welcoming that odor to linger in her home, room, and bed.

“Is she always that commanding?”

“Yes. Always,” Yongsun confirmed immediately. “It’s funny, though. She asked the same question about you.”

“Me?” Seungyeon was amused. The taller woman sat with her legs perched on the couch and her entire body facing Yongsun.

“Yes, you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said sometimes.”

“Me? Commanding? Since when?”

“Since always,” Yongsun shrugged. “You have a powerful aura about you. Don’t look at me like that.” Seungyeon’s playful smile drew one equally as playful from Yongsun.

“If you say so.”

“I say so,” Yongsun answered, a challenging brow arched. Seungyeon conceded, offering a bright smile, before grabbing her phone and checking her notifications.

She looked **beautiful**, Yongsun couldn’t deny it. Typically one for a more conservative style of dress—blazers, blouses, and pants, all sometimes oversized—Seungyeon wore a dress tonight. It was almost identical to Yongsun’s, actually. Both were satin slip dresses that fell to mid-shin. Both exposed their owner’s prominent collarbones. The only difference was the color. Where Yongsun’s dress was white, Seungyeon wore black. It was funny, really. Yongsun’s white dress was worn with soft, nude lips and her long, blonde hair falling in waves. Seungyeon’s plump lips were painted an alluring shade of dark red, while her dark brown locks fell with a slight curl to them. They were like night and day.

The realization brought back memories of earlier that evening when Wheein said the same thing about she and Moonbyul. What a coincidence that she ended up matching with both. The thought made her laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. Pointing at the collarbone tattoo she’d been curious about since they first reconnected, Yongsun asked, “What does your tattoo mean?”

“Oh. It says, ‘forever and always’ then has a date after it.” Before Yongsun could get any ideas, Seungyeon added, “it’s for my grandmother. She and I were close. She passed away during my second year in college. I mean **our** second year,” she chuckled, “I got this the year after.”

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re not prying at all,” Seungyeon gently nudged her leg.

“Just wanted to make sure,” said, voice small.

“You look **very** cute in that outfit, by the way.”

The sudden change in the direction of the conversation also changed the mood of the living room. As the two sat staring into each other’s eyes, smiles plastered on, the hint of tension that always sat between them began to grow with each passing second.

“I’m wearing baggy sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. How is that cute?”

“It’s cute on you. Especially with your hair in a messy bun like that. It’s really cute.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so,” Seungyeon smirked, parroting Yongsun’s words from earlier. Eyes trained on Yongsun’s lips, the graduate student knew what was most likely coming when the brunette moved closer on the couch and began leaning her head in.

“I’m coming back into the living room! If the two of you are making out, please stop!”

“You are **so** dramatic, Chorong,” Yongsun chided her roommate.

Chorong ignored her words, appearing in front of them in her pajamas and with a cheeky smile. “You were about to make out, weren’t you?”

“We were,” Seungyeon admitted. “Well, I was about to kiss her. I think she would’ve kissed me back,” she joked. Her looks were one thing, but Yongsun was most grateful for how unaffected by most things Seungyeon was. Whenever their friends made jokes at the pair’s expense, Seungyeon took the fall, always attempting to shield Yongsun. It was quite sweet.

“Sorry for my bad timing then.”

“It happens,” the former athlete shrugged good-naturedly.

The three of them spent another hour chopping it up, recounting their early experience at the club.

“Seungyeon, you were popular today,” Chorong said.

“Was I?”

“Look at her playing coy,” Yongsun shook her head in disbelief. “You had so many people trying to get your attention.”

“Remember that one girl, Yongsun? Yong and I sat laughing at one point because that one girl wouldn’t let you leave the conversation. It was so funny! You tried so hard to get away from her.”

“She was persistent.”

“Did you get her number?”

“**Get** her number? She forced it on me. I had no choice.”

“Honestly, you really didn’t,” Yongsun agreed. “She was **not** letting up.”

“I don’t know what was going on tonight. It was weird.”

“It was, right? I was saying the same thing!”

“You were saying that, Chorong, because you got no numbers tonight.”

“Exactly!” Chorong vehemently agreed with Yongsun, “**Very** weird energy. It made no sense.”

They spoke for a few more minutes before Chorong bowed out and went to bed.

It was almost four in the morning. Yongsun felt like the mood interrupted by Chorong earlier had returned. She and Seungyeon sat on the couch, neither saying anything out loud, but speaking volumes with their bodies. Teasing smiles and glances were exchanged for a few minutes until the taller of the two cleared her throat to speak.

“Didn’t you say you were tired? Isn’t that why we left the club? You should go to sleep.”

Yongsun understood. Seungyeon was giving her an out. A way to call it a night and not have things go any further. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want the night to end. Not right now, at least. The uncertainty of what was to come was exciting. Exhilarating.

The way Seungyeon’s eyes bore into her own, Yongsun knew **something** would happen. It was almost four in the morning. **Something** was going to happen and she wanted to know what that something would be.

“I guess I caught my second wind. Not really tired anymore.”

“Mmm, okay.”

“I **am** going to head to my room, though. Don’t want to keep Chorong from falling asleep.” Seungyeon would catch what she was trying to say.

“Oh, yes, of course. I should walk you to your room. Y’know, to make sure you make it safely and all that.”

“You’re cute,” the blonde grinned as she stood. And she meant that. Things with Seungyeon were always fun. They teased each other and joked around. Things were always light.

When they reached the door to her bedroom, the pair stood facing each other until the taller of the two spoke.

“Well. I got you to your door safely . . .”

Yongsun understood—Seungyeon wasn’t going to push anything. If Yongsun wanted to let the other woman into her room, she’d have to explicitly say so. So she did.

“Do you have to leave?”

“I’m in no rush. Why?”

“We could hang out in my room. Watch tv or something.”

“That’s cool with me,” Seungyeon smiled encouragingly.

Her string lights still plugged in from when she took her shower, the mood in the room was warm, romantic even. It only further fanned the tension between the former schoolmates.

Minutes later, they were seated shoulder-to-shoulder on Yongsun’s bed, her white sheets and comforter haphazardly splayed around them as a drama played on her television’s screen.

“Sorry my bed’s so messy. I usually make it before leaving, but I was in a rush today.” Translation: she wasn’t expecting company.

“It’s fine. If you saw the mess waiting for me at home, you’d realize that this is nothing.”

More minutes passed as they each stared at the screen in and uncomfortable silence. Neither was paying attention to the television. Yongsun had no idea what Seungyeon was thinking, but **she** was freaking out internally. The uncertainty that had only moments ago excited her now made her heart thump against her chest in slight panic. Thoughts racing, the graduate student tried to calm herself down, but failed spectacularly when she felt a hand resting low on her left thigh. Glancing briefly to her side, she noticed Seungyeon’s eyes were still trained on the television. Her eyes were elsewhere, but her thumb began tracing slow circles over Yongsun’s covered thigh. Following the pattern’s circuitous route turned almost hypnotic, gradually easing the blonde’s apprehensions.

“Hey,” Seungyeon called to her, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I wouldn’t pressure you into anything.” Gazing into the dark brown eyes set on her, a lot of the worry pooled in the pit of Yongsun’s stomach turned instantly into want.

“Yeah, I know,” Yongsun whispered.

“Okay, good,” Seungyeon whispered back, eyes locked on Yongsun’s lips.

“You can kiss me, you know,” she found courage.

“Okay, good.”

Yongsun watched as Seungyeon’s face inched closer to hers, shutting her eyes in anticipation. Familiar lips timidly pecked her own. Growing comfortable with their actions, Yongsun gently held the brunette’s neck in place, encouraging her to deepen the kiss. Seungyeon did just that.

More confident in her actions, the other woman’s lips came in more fervently, seeking contact for longer. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something in Yongsun snapped—she wanted more.

Falling to her back, she pulled Seungyeon with her, lips never separating. It was when her body made contact with her bed that Yongsun decided to push things. She traced her partner’s lips with her tongue, making it clear what she was looking for, and moaning in satisfaction as Seungyeon’s mouth opened for her.

Tongues hungrily brushing against each other’s, both women grew more comfortable in their desire—Yongsun running her fingers through Seungyeon’s hair, the latter allowing her full bodyweight to press against the smaller woman beneath her. Yongsun basked in the sensation of Seungyeon’s hips situated between her legs. Her body was on fire. The waves of adrenaline coursing through her spiked to new levels when soft lips expertly traversed the sensitive skin along her neck.

“That feels so fucking good,” she exclaimed, surprising even herself at the expletive that escaped. Lips still attached to Yongsun’s neck, Seungyeon’s low chuckle produced vibrations that traveled directly to the pit of Yongsun’s stomach.

The two gradually found their groove, reading each other’s movements and responding appropriately. When Seungyeon held herself up on her forearms to admire the woman beneath her, Yongsun used both arms to pull her head down. Actions informed only by need and instinct, she latched onto Seungyeon’s throat, haphazardly nipping and sucking.

They took their time, enjoying the feel of each other.

Yongsun’s throaty moans seemed to encourage Seungyeon to push the limits because one moment her right hand soothingly rubbed up and down Yongsun’s side, the next, it was slowly traveling underneath the blonde’s shirt and massaging her bare breast. Yongsun gasped in surprise.

“Are you okay?” The brunette pulled away from Yongsun’s lips to make sure her actions weren’t crossing a line.

“I’m fine,” Yongsun breathed. “I’m fine. That feels so good,” her eyes rolled back.

“This?” Seungyeon began gently pinching the pert nipple between her fingers.

No words. That graduate student had no words. Pleasure overwhelming her, whatever it was she intended to say was trapped in her throat, coming out as a garbled groan. Attempting to express the satisfaction she was experiencing, Yongsun roughly pulled Seungyeon’s lips to her own, tongue freely roaming the other woman’s mouth.

She didn’t care. She didn’t care if she was being too needy—was she being too needy? —or too desperate, she was floating on cloud nine and she didn’t want this to stop. Needed it to continue forever.

Of course, that was impossible.

Up until then, the graduate student gave no thought to how far she was willing to go tonight. Everything felt remarkable. So much so that only moments after Seungyeon’s fingers traveled to between Yongsun’s legs did she notice and react. If they continued like this, there was a high possibility they’d have sex and it wasn’t until that moment that Yongsun realized that was the line for her. She couldn’t have sex with Seungyeon tonight. That could **not** happen. Physically, it could—her body was responding to the taller girl’s touches—but mentally, she wasn’t prepared.

Seungyeon’s long fingers still continuing their ministrations between her legs brought her out of her head and back to reality—they needed to stop.

Squeezing her sweatpants-covered legs together, she trapped Seungyeon’s hand, effectively stopping the taller girl’s actions. Too engrossed in sloppily kissing and licking Yongsun’s neck, seconds passed before she lifted her head.

“Too much?” She asked with lust-filled eyes. Yongsun knew Seungyeon promised not to push things but fear still gripped her as she gathered her courage to tell the other woman that it was, in fact, too much. What if Seungyeon blamed her for letting things get this far only to stop? What if the brunette got upset?

Rendered silent, Yongsun settled with a weak nod, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Seungyeon sheepishly apologized. “I got carried away.”

“We both did.”

“I’ll keep my hands above the waist from now on. Like this,” she playfully squeezed Yongsun’s left breast once more before rolling off the shorter girl and flopping next to her.

Both women laid on their backs staring at the ceiling and catching their breath.

“I should go.”

“I didn’t mean to make you want to leave,” Yongsun hurriedly attempted to relieve any ill feelings she might have caused between the two of them.

Chuckling softly, Seungyeon propped herself up on her elbows and leaned over to tenderly kiss Yongsun, who she realized was freaking out. “It’s not a bad thing. We can’t have sex tonight, but if we keep this up for any longer, we might both forget that we. Can’t. Have. Sex. Tonight,” each word punctuated by a kiss.

“You sure you’re not upset?”

“I’m sure I’m not upset. Are you upset?”

“What would I be upset about?” Confusion overtook her.

“I was, like, mauling your neck and grabbing at your breast for dear life. It was a bit embarrassing.”

“Oh. No, it felt . . . really good, actually.”

“Got it. Will keep that in mind for next time.”

“Next time? You think there will be a next time?”

“I **know** there will be a next time,” Seungyeon bluffed.

“You’re really good at making things less awkward,” Yongsun observed.

“I try. There’s no reason to be awkward. We were having fun. Nothing to regret, right?” Seungyeon tried reassuring her.

“Right,” the blonde agreed with a relieved smile on her face.

“Cool. Can I use your bathroom before I leave? I’m 90% sure my face looks a mess.”

“You look hot, but yes, you can use my bathroom.”

“Thanks.”

Taking the opportunity to stretch her legs, Yongsun hopped off her bed to grab her purse that sat on the desk across the room. Fishing out her phone, the number of new messages startled her—most were from Byulyi, who pressed for Yongsun to come to the afterparty.

She wasn’t in the mood for an afterparty. After everything that had just happened, Yongsun was exhausted, but the thought of falling asleep in Byulyi’s arms in a fancy hotel room was enticing. Very.

Checking the other messages, some were from Wheein and Hyejin. They, too, encouraged Yongsun to come to the hotel and hang out with them. Hyejin’s was especially convincing:

**From: Hyejinie**

There’s no reason for you to not be here.

Stop being boring. _3:18 am_

In Hyejin-language, that meant she missed Yongsun.

**To: Hyejinie**

Miss you, too.

Give me the info. Byulyi’s not answering. _4:27 am_

“How do I look?”

“Beautiful.”

“You didn’t even look up from your phone before you answered.”

“Because I know you look beautiful,” Yongsun finally looked up. “See? I was right. You look beautiful.”

“Someone’s in a good mood. Anyway, I’m gonna head out.”

“Wait! Could you do me a favor?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Wheein and Hyejin have been messaging me all night about meeting them at their hotel. It’s only about fifteen minutes away by car. Would you mind dropping me off? I know it’s a lot, but it’s fine if you say no.” She didn’t know why she completely left Moonbyul out.

“Why would I say no? Sure, get dressed.”

“Thank you,” she enthusiastically hugged the brunette.

Ten minutes later, Yongsun had changed her shirt, cleaned up her face, and thrown her Crocs on.

Once in the car, she noticed one message she’d missed earlier:

**From: Rongie**

Have fun 😉 _4:03 am_

**To: Rongie**

You’re stupid _4:40 am_

The drive was comfortable. Very comfortable. There wasn’t much talking, just relaxing music that was interrupted sporadically by the GPS. As she tended to do, Yongsun got lost in her thoughts. Recalling the night’s events, the conversation with Chorong at the club stood out to Yongsun. She had told Chorong the truth earlier—she wasn’t ready for a relationship. She did, however, fully enjoy the space for growth that her “thing” with Seungyeon allowed her. Yongsun came to learn more about herself as a sexual being, that much was obvious, but as she grew in that part of her life, she challenged herself to apply the same principles of open-mindedness and patience to other parts, too. Her goal was to continue learning about and growing comfortable with herself. All of herself, especially her emotions and feelings, which the graduate student wanted to become better acquainted with and learn how to better manage.

Since she began engaging with Seungyeon in the ways that she did, though, Yongsun felt she’d already improved leaps and bounds. The way she was able to **confidently speak up** with Seungyeon about what acts she did and didn’t like, that was growth. How **honest** she was about her attraction for Seungyeon—growth. The way **she didn’t judge herself** for liking what she liked and feeling how she felt? Growth.

Letting out a satisfied sigh, Yongsun was content with the way her life was progressing.

Before she knew it, they had arrived.

“Have fun at the hotel, but also, please get some rest at some point.”

“I will. Promise. Thanks for tonight,” she blushed.

“Thank **you**. I had a **very** good time,” Seungyeon smiled brightly.

“You’re welcome. Text me when you get home, please, and be sure to get lots of rest, too, okay?”

“I promise. A kiss for the road?”

“Sure. You’ve earned it,” Yongsun smirked and rolled her eyes.

*

It was funny how any and every moment could teach people about themselves.

Only minutes earlier, Yongsun was praising herself for the progress she had made over the past few months. Now, faced with the yelling match between Moonbyul and some random girl, the graduate student realized she hadn’t grown as much as she once thought she had.

At no point did she **confidently speak up** about the fact that she knew Byulyi was lying about what happened with that Jiah girl. No one causes a scene that dramatically in public “for no reason,” and she didn’t like how Moonbyul tried to pull the wool over her eyes by insinuating that Jiah was doing just that.

She was nowhere near being **honest** about her attraction for Byulyi, and when the athlete asked her after the confrontation if she was okay, Yongsun wasn’t **honest** about the fact that she wasn’t.

The worst part, though, was **how hard she judged herself** for feeling how she felt. Yongsun was _pissed_ off. At the mess she’d walked into. At Byulyi for causing the situation in the first place. But mostly at herself for, once again, letting her frustration fester instead of addressing the problem head-on; for allowing Moonbyul to hold her that night as if nothing had happened; and for being the biggest hypocrite to exist. Not even an hour ago, she was underneath Seungyeon, yet here she was angered over her single best friend doing single people things with other single people.

Yongsun hated how easily she let the younger woman mold her into someone that she wasn’t and she refused to allow anyone, even her best friend, to erase the progress she was working hard to make.

As she lay in Moonbyul’s bed, though, Kim Yongsun made a vow that that would all change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick peek into Yongsun's night. Many of you guessed what happened with Seungyeon and that’s okay because life is sometime predictable. Still more Midnight Madness to go.
> 
> I have a break in a couple weeks so it’s possible I’ll be able to write more and you all won’t have to wait a week for updates. We’ll see.


	31. For Your Consideration

“She’s pissed at me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Oh. Well . . . I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s all you have to say? You didn’t even ask why.”

“Because I don’t care why. I want to sleep,” the taller girl grumbled.

Head submerged beneath the plush hotel sheets and pillows, the last thing Heeyeon wanted to be dealing with in her current state was a frantic Moonbyul pacing back and forth at the foot of her bed. Byulyi knew this, but she also desperately needed her friend’s help.

“Yeonie. Please. I’m being serious.”

“I’m **hungover**. Severely hungover. I don’t want to deal with your bullshit this morning,” Heeyeon barked.

“Bought you breakfast. It’s in the other room,” the athlete tried her last bargaining chip.

It did the trick. Grudgingly, Heeyeon rose from the bed, ignoring Byulyi completely as she passed to enter the living room area adjacent to the bedroom. Knowing that she was treading on thin ice, Moonbyul did her best to ingratiate herself with her friend.

“You’re not in your best condition, so I’m very thankful that you’re taking the ti–”

“Just tell me what happened,” the graduate student snappily instructed.

“Basically, after you left, I did something stupid because I was frustrated that Yong wasn’t answering my messages, then did something even stupider when she showed up at the afterparty.”

“This sounds promising. Go on,” the slightly older woman prompted as she unwrapped and arranged the haejangguk* and side dishes Moonbyul had treated her to.

Wasting no time, the athlete dove in, sparing no detail as she recounted the events of earlier that morning, from what happened with Jiah in the bathroom to up until an hour ago when Yongsun woke up and insisted on heading back to University Village on her own.

_Reaching over to pull Yongsun closer, Byulyi’s fingertips grasped only onto loose bedsheets. Concern and alarm setting in, the athlete gathered all the strength in her body to pry her eyes open and scan the room. No Yongsun in sight._

_“Yong,” she called out. Wincing slightly at the tinge of pain the action caused in her throat, she sat up and grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand at the bed’s side. 10:00 am._

_The worry that sat in the pit of her stomach ceased immediately upon hearing the pitter patter of steps coming from the living room—it had to be Yongsun—but confusion quickly replaced it. Why was she up so early? They’d only gone to bed about four hours ago._

_Rolling out of bed, the carpeted floor tickled beneath her bare feet as she sluggishly trekked to the other room where she found Yongsun zipping about the place._

_“Yong,” her hoarse voice halted the older girl’s movements. “What are you doing up already?”_

_“Hey, Byulyi,” Yongsun softly answered as she gathered her shoes._

_“Why are you putting your shoes on?”_

_“I need to head back to UV.”_

_“Already?” She’d basically just gotten there. “Okay, I’ll put some clothes on and go get the car.” Before she could turn for the bedroom, Yongsun stopped her._

_“No. It’s fine. I’ll take the train back. I need to think about some things. The alone time will be good for me.”_

_“Oh,” a crestfallen Byulyi responded. “I was expecting to drive you. Was looking forward to it, actually. Was hoping we could get breakfast and all that,” she chuckled nervously._

_Each moment of silence that passed between them left the brunette feeling more and more unsettled._

_“I have some things to take care of,” Yongsun finally broke the seal of silence. With that, she put on her coat and shuffled towards the door. _

_Moonbyul, who could only nod dumbly, racked her brain for a way to prolong the time they had together, if only for a few extra minutes._

_“Take one of my sweatshirts,” she yelled suddenly. “It’s colder today than it was yesterday, and I don’t want you getting sick,” she trailed off as she scurried to the room to grab one from her suitcase. Jogging back, the athlete held an oversized sweatshirt out to Yongsun in the hopes that the graduate student would accept her offering._

_Yongsun was upset. There was no way around that. Moonbyul **knew** that she was the one at fault and that it likely had to do with what happened before they’d fallen asleep. What she didn’t know was **how** upset the older woman was. If Yongsun took the sweater, Moonbyul would know she still had a chance to fix things._

_A few beats passed with her arm extended, but Yongsun finally let out a sigh, rolling her eyes as she removed her puffer coat to grab the grey sweatshirt. After throwing it on over her head, Moonbyul watched as she wordlessly put her outerwear on and, once again, headed for the door. Scrambling, the senior held the door open for her, bidding her adieu._

_As she brushed past the brunette, Yongsun simply said, “I’ll come back. We can get lunch.”_

_“Lunch. Yes. That works! That’s great,” Moonbyul beamed. For the first time that morning, she could breathe easily._

The way Heeyeon furrowed her brows and scrunched her face at certain parts of the story as she cleaned the containers of their contents, Moonbyul thought some sage advice would be coming her way.

“Yeah, you’re done. Give it up.”

“Wait, what? I came to you for help, and you’re telling me to ‘give it up’?”

“I can’t help you because you’ve refused to help yourself. It’s been how long now that you’ve had a crush on Yongsun-unnie? Since January? That’s nine‑going‑on‑ten months, Byul.”

“She was in a relationship!”

“Yes, she **was**. She’s been single for three, almost four, months, though. And you’ve done nothing in that time.” Seemingly annoyed by Moonbyul’s heavy exhale, Heeyeon got harsher. “You know who’s been doing something during that time? That Seungyeon girl.”

“We don’t know that,” the younger rolled her eyes. That wasn’t the part of the story that she wanted to focus on. All she needed was help on how to get Yongsun to no longer be upset with her.

“We **do** know that. **You** just told me that unnie disappeared for hours this morning, not answering any of your messages. Where was she? With Seungyeon.”

Growing tired of her roommate’s know-everything attitude, Byulyi snapped a bit. “Okay, Heeyeon, forget it. I came asking for help and instead, you’re being a bitch. Sorry I fucking asked.”

“Don’t fucking yell at me because shit isn’t going your way, Byul! If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she dismissively answered. It had already been decided that she wasn’t going to stay much longer. Saying nothing, she stood from the couch and walked to the room’s exit.

“Here she goes. Walking away. Like always.”

“Seriously, Heeyeon. Just drop it. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m dead serious.”

“**That **is your problem,” Heeyeon threw her hands in the air in frustration. “You always want to ‘drop it’. All of the shit that you **need** to talk about, you avoid until it can no longer be avoided.”

“Maybe you should’ve become a psychologist,” Byulyi sarcastically remarked.

“Maybe you should become less of a smartass,” Heeyeon spat back. “You come here, waking me up to bitch about Yongsun-unnie being upset at you. She has every right to be upset—all you do is stretch the truth about the women in your life.”

“That’s bullshit. I’ve been with one person since Yong and I have been friends.”

“You lied to her about nothing happening with Sunmi. Didn’t tell her about Haena-unnie until after she railed on you for bringing the girl to her birthday party. Now with Jiah, unnie showed up to hang out with you and ended up walking into yet **another** one of your ‘misunderstandings’. Come on, Byul. Get real.”

For most of their shouting match, the senior stood near the door, ready to bolt whenever the stress of Heeyeon ragging on her became too much. Now, though, at the pattern in her behavior being so clearly laid out in front of her, she needed a seat and some time to process things.

Granting herself a moment of complete honesty, she could admit that her actions made her look like a jerk. There was a valid—in her eyes, at least—justification for each of the situations that Heeyeon mentioned but taking a step back and assessing things from an outsider’s perspective, she looked . . . not great.

“Judging by the look on your face, you stopped being defensive and finally **listened** to what I was saying.” The voice startled Moonbyul as she hadn’t noticed when Heeyeon took a seat next to her on the couch.

“Whatever, Heeyeon.”

“At the end of the day, I want the best for you. You’re great at a lot of things, Byulyi, but unless it’s related to basketball, you **suck** at communication. It’s caused you many sticky situations, all easily avoidable if you’d open your mouth and say what you mean. Yet time and time again, you refuse.”

Yeah, she couldn’t dispute any of this.

“Now you’re making the same mistake **again**. Is unnie mad at you? The two of you know each other very well, so if you think she is, I’ll take your word for it. I just find it funny that instead of asking **her**, you came to **me**. Could have literally just asked her what the issue was.”

“It seems that easy, but it’s not that easy,” Moonbyul argued.

“It **is** that easy, Byulyi. Ask her what the problem is, apologize, and you’ll be fine. She’ll forgive you.”

“I don’t know,” Moonbyul hedged. “It was weirder this time. I think she’s really upset.”

“She’s been ‘really upset’ before and she’s always forgiven you. She’ll forgive you this time, too.”

Heeyeon’s flippant attitude about the current conflict with Yongsun rubbed Byul the wrong way, but she let it go since most of her roommate’s words were useful.

“What’s more urgent, is this crush of yours. You need to do something soon or else you’re done, Byulyi. I know you didn’t like me mentioning Seungyeon earlier, but you have to be realistic. People don’t just spend hours together at **that** time of morning doing nothing.”

“It’s possible.”

“It’s not. If they were physical, you’re screwed. If they weren’t, it means there’s an emotional bond there, which means you’re even more screwed.”

Face in her hands, a garbled sound escaped Byulyi. None of this was supposed to be as soul-crippling as things were shaping out to be.

“Why is this so hard?”

“Because you’re not doing anything, Byul.” The words were critical, but the senior could sense that Heeyeon was attempting to handle her and the situation more gently this time around. “We’re always honest with each other, so I’ll continue being honest with you: you have it easy when it comes to women. They approach **you**. They chase **you**. **They** put in the work. You just sit back and choose who you’ll entertain and when. Unnie isn’t like that. If it weren’t tragic, it’d be comical how much of a run for your money she’s giving you. You have to **do** something. **Say** something. If you keep sitting back, there will be more Seungyeons. There will be more Jinyoungs. More people who like Yongsun-unnie, make it known, and do something about it.”

“I don’t even know if she likes me like that, Yeonie,” the athlete sighed dejectedly. It seemed that was all she could do this morning. The more Heeyeon talked this through, the more hopeless it all sounded.

“Does it matter at this point? Give her a reason to like you. Turn on your charms. Do whatever it is you do. Just . . . make it clear that you’re an option.”

“Am I, though?”

“Oh my gosh. Right now is not the time for a pity party,” Heeyeon scoffed. “Do we know if she likes you as more than a friend? No. We don’t. But even with other options around, she still makes time for you. She hung out with Seungyeon and then found a way, at five in the morning, to end the day with you. You said she’s upset with you and refused to get breakfast, but she still took your sweatshirt and agreed to the two of you having lunch.”

“Because we’re friends. We’re just friends.”

“You’re not **just** friends. The two of you are best friends. She means a lot to you and you mean a lot to her. Don’t take advantage of that, because that’s weird and creepy, but . . . like . . . use it to your advantage? I don’t know how exactly that works. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and talking when I need to be sleeping. You can figure the rest out.”

“Is that code for you are kicking me out now?”

“Yes. I’ve used much more energy than I planned to by being forced to fix your love life. We’ll meet up later. I’m going back to bed.”

“That’s fair. Thanks for helping me,” Byulyi shyly shared in earnest.

“Of course. You’re my girl. You’re useless half the time and clueless the other half, but you’re still my girl and I’m rooting for you.”

The two came to a natural end to their discussion before going their separate ways—Heeyeon, as promised, to her bed, and Moonbyul to the hotel’s gym. Just like Yongsun, she needed time alone to think things through. The facilities available to her didn’t have much of the equipment she typically used for workouts, but the treadmill would do just fine. For at least the next hour, she’d run off the stress that had seeped into her body and mind.

After quickly stopping at her room next door to change into workout attire and catching an elevator from the eighth floor, the brunette scrolled through her phone to pass the time. There were no messages from Yongsun. Not unexpected, but it still stung.

Heeyeon’s words instantly came back to her in that moment. Proactive. She needed to be proactive when it came to Yongsun from now on. Instead of waiting for a message, she’d send one, and if the older woman needed space and time, she could ignore communication and respond whenever was more appropriate for her. What Moonbyul needed to do, though, was show effort.

**To: Yong**

Hi! Going to work out. Lmk when you’re coming back

and if you want me to pick you up! _11:37 am_

Quickly closing her messages, Byulyi enjoyed the calming jazz music that filled the elevator for the remainder of her journey to the lower level. Upon reaching her destination, she strode into the miniature gym, immediately finding the row of treadmills, but settled on first doing a quick ten-minute warmup on a stationary bike.

More interested in going through the motions than being mentally present and engaged, Byulyi let her legs do their thing as she scrolled through Instagram. The photos and videos that captured various parts of the previous night served as the perfect distraction. Mind drifting once again to her conversation with Heeyeon, Moonbyul’s fingers moved under their own volition. Before she knew it, she was on Seungyeon’s page, eyes locked on her most recent upload—a picture of her, Yongsun, and Chorong at the club they visited on Friday. They sat on a couch, bright smiles on two of the three faces. Instead of looking at the camera, Seungyeon had an arm casually slung around Yongsun’s shoulders, nose pressed against the blonde’s temple with a sentimental expression painted on her face. The display itself was much more intimate than anything she’d expected to come across, but the fact that this girl had posted it for the public to see . . . what did that mean? What was the nature of their relationship?

The comments helped naught in clearing things up.

127 likes

**seungyeon** A great night with even better people.

View all 49 comments

**sirae** Awww!

40m 10 likes Reply

|**seungyeon** @sirae We need one with all four of us next time.

**chorong** We look good! You definitely had a great night 👀 @yongsun

30m 4 likes Reply

|**seungyeon** @chorong @yongsun Expose me 😭

|**Chorong** @seungyeon You exposed yourself lmao

**hs0401** You did well.

**yongsun** You *would* choose this one to post.

3m 3 likes Reply

|**seungyeon** @yongsun Guilty. I wanted to show off a little, I’ll admit it.

Add a comment . . . 

1 hour ago

No. Just . . . no. Not on her watch. No.

*

That Instagram post shook her up a bit, she wouldn’t lie. Yongsun had never hidden her friendship with Seungyeon, but that picture and those comments? Byulyi’s head was spinning, and it wasn’t as if she had an inordinate amount of time to process things either. By the end of her workout, Yongsun had messaged with the news that she’d be back at the hotel within a few hours. Byulyi had to quickly get herself together. And, to her credit, she did. Accomplishing everything on her to-do list, the senior even had a few moments before lunch with Yongsun to mentally prepare herself, to create a step-by-step plan for how she’d approach things and clear the seemingly foggy air between them.

“Are you going to eat that?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were going to eat that,” Yongsun repeated, pointing her chopsticks at the noodles on Moonbyul’s plate.

Covering her plate, Byulyi jokingly rejected her best friend’s advances, “You ordered what you wanted and now you want to eat my food, too? Rude.”

“Yes. Move your arm, please,” she wrenched the athlete’s hand away before eating freely from the plate that wasn’t hers.

Sitting back, Byulyi enjoyed the scene in front of her. It was a relief, really. Her and Yongsun’s journey to a nearby restaurant wasn’t as tense as she thought it would be. They talked normally—a massive feat for Byulyi whose heart was pounding against her chest. The younger woman did **not** like conflict. That was one of the main reasons she tended to not address elephants in the room—doing so usually led to difficult conversations that she preferred avoiding. Her go-to for conflict resolution was allowing time to heal all wounds. It wasn’t as if she thought that to be a productive way of handling things. On the contrary, she knew it was an ineffective method of creating sustainable solutions. Handling things that way was easier, though. Much easier. Didn’t require vulnerability, didn’t produce more friction, didn’t lead to hurtful words. Well, it didn’t lead to hurtful words **in the moment**, and that was all Moonbyul cared about—things being fine in the moment.

As she had known for some time now, and as Heeyeon had confirmed earlier, this approach was lazy and more detrimental than confronting things head-on. If she was serious about ensuring a relationship with Yongsun, platonic or otherwise, she couldn’t be lazy. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the potentially murky conversation she was about to initiate.

“It’s nice to see you in a good mood again,” she started timidly.

“When was I not in a good mood?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Moonbyul quickly scolded, before pouting and continuing, “To answer your question, this morning. You were mad at me.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you think I was upset?” The ominous tone with which she asked that question, coupled with the way she set her chopsticks down and, mirroring Byulyi, sat back in her chair, raised the hairs on the senior’s neck.

Yongsun was a fun person, very easygoing at times, but there was always something intimidating about her. It often felt as if she was a few steps ahead, as if she already knew the answers to the questions she posed, asking them as a formality.

“I thought you were upset because you were upset. Normally, when we wake up and I say good morning, you say, ‘Good morning, my most favorite person ever, light of my life. Did you sleep well?’ But today, I said it and you barely even grunted a response.” Humor. That was her secret weapon. No matter what, she could make Yongsun laugh, and Moonbyul would use the hell out of it right now to make things less uncomfortable.

“You are **so** stupid,” Yongsun rolled her eyes, but was unable to stop the way her lips curled upward in amusement. “Maybe I was tired.”

“Maybe, but even the way you walked around the suite was different. There was a lot of tension in your shoulders. You don’t normally walk like that.”

“Wow. You pay attention to everything, huh?” A hint of challenge was detected in that response. Internally taking a deep breath, Byulyi met that challenge.

“When it comes to you, yes. I pay attention to everything,” she held Yongsun’s gaze. Yongsun held hers back.

They sat there staring for a few seconds that felt like minutes, questions piling between them.

Yongsun broke first. Crossing her arms, she cleared her throat. A sip of water later, arms crossed in front of her, she hummed an, “If you say so.”

There was no more avoiding it. The athlete had to be brave and jump into the mess she caused.

“Look, I want to apologize,” she leaned in, resting her hoodie-covered forearms on the table between them.

“For what?”

Heeyeon prepped her for this when Byulyi brought this apology up earlier.

_“She’s going to ask you what you’re sorry for. A lot of people apologize for the sake of apologizing, never giving much thought to what they’re actually apologizing for. This is, like, your one thousandth offense. She’s probably going to call you out on your bullshit.”_

“For this morning. For the thing with Jiah.”

“You’re a grown woman. You do what you want with whomever you want. Don’t justify your actions to me.” Her tone was cold, confirming to Byulyi that she had read the situation correctly.

“It’s not a matter of justifying things, it’s a matter of me being wrong. Whatever happened between me and her should have stayed between me and her. She shouldn’t have brought you into it, and I shouldn’t have created a situation where any of that could have happened.”

“Mmm.”

“Yeah . . .”

She wasn’t expecting a round of applause or anything, but the athlete **did** think she’d get more to go off of than a “mmm”.

“What are you thinking?” She prodded.

“So you only apologized for that because you thought I was upset at you?” Head tilted to the side, eyes squinted. Byulyi felt as if she was being cross‑examined. Yongsun was seriously no joke sometimes.

“No. I apologized because the whole thing was a mess that I handled poorly. Also, because your opinion matters a lot to me—**you** matter a lot to me. The possibility of you thinking poorly of me? I didn’t like that. It made me reflect on my actions and I realized I have a lot of room for improvement. I reached out to Jiah after my workout and we met up. I apologized for how I treated her. She was skeptical, which is completely understandable and fair. I’m not entitled to her forgiveness, but at least I put it out there that I know I was wrong.”

“That’s . . . very mature of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Because I am.”

“Not one to mince words, are you?”

“Not anymore, no. I’m working on being more direct from now on.”

“You were plenty direct before,” Byulyi laughed nervously.

“Not with everyone,” the graduate student’s eyes bore into her own. By “everyone”, Yongsun meant “Moonbyul”.

“Got it. Well, I realize I haven’t been the best at communicating, so . . . I’ll be working on that from now on. Feel free to hold me accountable.”

Getting no verbal response, Byulyi directed her energy towards cleaning up the scraps of food Yongsun left her.

“Thank you for the apology,” she heard out of nowhere. A wave of relief washed over her when she looked up and saw a smile. It was small but pronounced enough to bring about the cute dimples at the corner of Yongsun’s lips.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled back.

“I don’t know if ‘upset’ was the correct word, but I was thinking about a way to address last night’s events with you.”

“Is that what you needed space to think about? What happened to being direct?” Byulyi joked.

“It was one of the things I needed to think through. And that’s why I said I’m **working** **on it**,” she nudged the younger woman’s leg under the table. “Stop being annoying.”

“I was joking. It shouldn’t be on you to always address any issues we have. I need to start pulling my weight. As for me being annoying, I can’t help it. I was born that way. Ask my mom.”

“How is she? It’s been forever since I talked to her.”

“It’s been forever since **I** talked to her.”

“Horrible daughter.”

“I’m just sucking at everything, huh? Horrible friend, horrible daughter. What else can we add to the list?” She joked at her own expense.

“Stop. You’re not a horrible friend. You’re a great friend,” Yongsun softly reassured her. “There are some things you can be better at, but there are things I need to be better at, too. No one’s perfect.”

“Aww. You’re defending me again. That means I’m forgiven, right?”

“Aren’t you always forgiven? I always let you off easy. I need to stop that.”

“No, you need to keep doing that. I deserve it because I’m the best. But just me. No one else gets that special treatment, okay?”

“Whatever, Byul,” she chuckled.

“Do you want more food? Or dessert? Get whatever you want. Everything’s on me,” she boasted.

“Listen to you bragging!”

“A little,” she blushed. “Seriously, though, when we’re together, I got you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yongsun accepted.

The air between them felt lighter. Moonbyul could breath easier. There were some topics that needed to be addressed that neither brought up throughout the duration of their meal—Seungyeon being a big one—but their interactions were no longer stiff, their words no longer cautious and clipped. They felt like **them**. Moon Byulyi and Kim Yongsun.

*

After lunch, Byulyi and Yongsun didn’t see much of each other. The former took a nap, the latter went to spend time with Wheein and Hyejin. The two youngest were asleep well into the afternoon but woke up to receive the food Yongsun made Byulyi purchase for them. When Byulyi woke up, Wheein and Hyejin reported that Yongsun had fallen asleep in their room. Figuring the graduate student would be knocked out until the party later that night, Moonbyul went back to Heeyeon’s suite. Their tension from earlier long forgotten, and with Byulyi’s distress over Yongsun resolved, the two gossiped for hours about the stories they’d heard from the previous night. For Moonbyul, it was both a relief and slightly concerning that her debacle with Jiah was child’s play compared to some of the other shenanigans SNU students had gotten into. The night ahead was bound to be even messier.

Time passing quicker than anticipated, she and Heeyeon hurriedly got dressed for night two and joined the rest of the Women’s Basketball team at a pregame happening a few floors below. They later migrated to Club Octagon and secured a private room for them and their friends.

*

Almost midnight, no sign of Yongsun, Wheein, or Hyejin. By now, Byul felt she should have known better than to leave the three of them to their own devices.

**To: Faves**

I get it. Fashionably late and all that

but when are you 3 getting here?!

I miss you all. _11:30 pm_

**Ahnyonce**

You miss “us” or you miss unnie? _11:34 pm_

**Wheeinie**

🤣 🤣 🤣 _11:35 pm_

**Yong**

We’re coming 🤣 _11:35 pm_

**Wheeinie**

* 🍹 _11:36 pm_

**Ahnyonce**

** 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 _11:37 pm_

**Byulyi**

You’re all drunk 😒 _11:38 pm_

**Yong**

I’m not! They are. _11:39 pm_

**Wheeinie**

You are! _11:39 pm_

**Yong**

🤫 _11:40 pm_

**Byulyi**

😩 I’m coming to get the three of you. _11:40 pm_

There were no dull moments with her friends. Even with the stress of trying and failing to imagine the trouble they were causing in the halls of the New Hilltop Hotel, Moonbyul was excited.

Excited might have been an understatement. The four of them hadn’t partied together in some time. This going to be a **night**.

“I’m gonna get the girls. They’re . . . somewhere. Drunk.”

“Already? Geez. I need to party with them!”

“Don’t encourage them,” Moonbyul laughed.

“Why not? It’s the last night of Midnight Madness parties. We’re **supposed** to act reckless. They have the right idea.”

“They can act as reckless as they want once they get here. I just need them in the same room as me.”

“Wish granted,” Heeyeon pointed to the entrance of their private room.

Following the direction of the pointed fingers, she saw her '92 Club friends leading Wheein, Hyejin, and Yongsun into the room.

“Look who we found!” Sandeul exclaimed over the blaring music.

The first feeling that overtook her was relief. Her friends were safe **and** she managed to avoid making a trip through the growing mosh pit on the lower level.

That was quickly replaced with panic because damnit if Yongsun didn’t look breathtaking.

“Oh my goodness,” Heeyeon uttered. “Yongsun-unnie looks . . . wow. Oh my goodness. Good luck, friend.”

Tousled, blonde hair. A thin-strapped, black leather minidress. Knee-high, black fishnet socks.

“Close your mouth,” Hyejin giggled as she waltzed by to claim a spot on the couch.

*

Admittedly, the night thus far had been the most fun Moonbyul had had in months. Genuine fun. Surrounded by her closest friends, she couldn’t have asked for anything better. The sound of laughter traveled from every inch of the room as her teammates, best friends, and '92 Club members chipped away at the degrees of separation between them. She, too, worked the room and joked around with everyone, but Byulyi **always** had a read on where Yongsun was.

The graduate student was at the sweet spot of intoxication, if there were such a thing. She wasn’t as drunk as when first arriving, but she wasn’t sober either, and it showed. Not in any sloppy movements, but in the way she interacted with others. This was a Yongsun different from any other Byulyi had encountered, more carefree. Expertly initiating and terminating conversations, the blonde sauntered around their private room and the section of the balcony in front of it as if she owned the place. Looking the way she did, it was possible.

About an hour after the trio arrived, they were spread out on the couch having a conversation with Heeyeon. Moonbyul joined them after receiving a stern reminder from her roommate only a few moments prior:

**From: Hee-yawn**

What happened to making yourself an option?

You were mad last night that she wasn’t here.

She’s here tonight. Come on. Turn on the charm. _12:50 am_

That was the encouragement she needed. Unlike the rest of her friends, Byulyi wasn’t drinking—someone in the group had to have their wits about them. Heeyeon’s text became the shot of liquid courage she needed.

“Look who it is,” Hyejin announced from the couch as the athlete approached, “You said you missed us and then avoided us for the entire hour we’ve been here so far.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you. The three of you were making your rounds. I didn’t want to cramp your style.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

Scanning the area, she noticed there was no space on the couch for her.

“Yong, get up.”

“What? Why?” The graduate student at the far right lifted her head from her cell phone.

“Because there’s no space.”

“So where am I supposed to sit?”

“On me.”

It was comical watching the blonde act as if she was annoyed. For all the rolling of her eyes and kissing her teeth she did, Yongsun obediently stood, allowing Byulyi time to situate herself before descending onto the athlete’s lap and wrapping her right arm around her neck. It felt right. Being like this with Yongsun felt right.

“Hi,” she smiled at her best friend.

“Hi,” Yongsun rolled her eyes.

Grabbing hold of the older woman’s chin, Byulyi gently caressed it. “Why are you always rolling your eyes at me? I thought we were back on good terms?”

“We were never on bad terms. I was just annoyed with you,” Yongsun, yet again, rolled her eyes.

“Well . . . don’t be annoyed with me.”

“It’s that simple, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s that simple,” she grinned.

Right arm snaked around the older woman’s waist, left hand resting on her stomach.

Lips to Yongsun’s ears. “You look beautiful,” she whispered.

“You always say that,” Yongsun scoffed despite shivering slightly.

“Because you always look beautiful. Anyway, how has your night been?”

“All of it has been great! Except the part where I came to this party and my best friend was too busy with other people to spend time with me.”

“Sounds like the worst best friend. Where is she? I’ll go give her a piece of my mind for you.”

“You’re **so** stupid!” A hand still on Yongsun’s toned stomach, she felt the way it contracted from how hard the blonde was laughing. A smile of her own formed in response.

Background chatter increased exponentially as an influx of guests made their way in and out of the room throughout the night. Out of sheer necessity to contend with the noise, the pair were forced physically closer. Byulyi spoke directly into Yongsun’s ear, Yongsun held onto the side of Byul’s face, pulling her closer whenever she had something to say. If anything, the younger of the two began intentionally asking open-ended questions that required long responses. She craved the feel of Yongsun’s soft fingers on her face, grew addicted to gentle caresses Yongsun didn’t realize accompanied each of her animated stories. The end of the couch transformed into their own little world, both content with being the other’s only company for the night.

“I have to pee,” Yongsun suddenly announced. Reaching across Byulyi, she tapped Wheein. “Wheein-ah, I have to pee.”

The senior watched as both women held tightly onto each other, slowly and carefully making their way through the bodies that filled the room. Once out of sight, she checked the couch to see who she could talk to for the time being and was met with a fierce pair of squinted eyes locked on her.

She scooted closer.

“Hi, Hyejin. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Leave it alone, unnie,” the youngest declared, warning in her voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Leave it alone.”

“Am I that bad of an option? You always sound so against the idea of me and her.” She attempted to make a joke out of it, but that fell flat, exposing how hurtful Hyejin’s constant objections were.

“Unnie. Look at me,” she urged. “It’s not a matter of you being a bad option for Yongsun-unnie. You’re wonderful.”

“But?”

“But . . . I don’t think she’s ready for anything serious, and I don’t know how serious you are. I’ve said it time and time again: a relationship between the two of you would affect all of us, and if neither of you are serious, then you’d be sacrificing our friendship for nothing.”

“How are you so sure that I’m not serious?”

“The last time I asked you why you liked her, you said, ‘Because she’s pretty.’” Sensing a rebuttal, Hyejin stopped the athlete. “I know you were lying, but still, that in itself was telling. You couldn’t even be honest with me about how you felt for her.”

“That was months ago, Hyejin. She was still in a relationship at the time.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll give you that. What have you done since then, though? I haven’t seen anything convincing on your part. You just mope around and get fussy when she hangs out with anyone remotely attractive.”

Heeyeon had said almost the exact same words earlier.

“I’m trying, Hyejin. I’m trying. If you want to hear me say it out loud, I’ll say it. I like her. A lot. And it’s been eating me alive to sit back and do nothing about it, but I’m trying. I just . . . I’m trying.” It was embarrassing how inarticulate she had been. There were thousands of reasons she felt the way she did for Yongsun. Roughly scrubbing her face with her hands, Byulyi felt a soft hand halting her actions.

“Unnie,” Hyejin regarded her softly, “I’m not against it, and at the end of the day, you don’t need my approval. You can do whatever you want. I’m simply worried for you, worried for her, and worried about our friendship.”

“I doubt you’re this worried about her and Seungyeon,” the statement came with an appropriate amount of bitterness.

“If you want to know about her and Seungyeon-unnie, then ask her, don’t try to secretly get information out of me.”

“Seriously, Hyejin? For **once**, be on my side with this. I **know** she talks to you about this stuff.” Just like that, her great night was turning sour. “I don’t get it. I’d do anything for her. You **know** that. Why can’t you just help me out a bit?”

Moments of silence passed, the club’s rhythmic beats filling the space between them.

“Fine,” Hyejin conceded. “I don’t know if she likes you the way you like her.” Moonbyul’s heart dropped to her stomach. “If I had to guess, I’d say she feels **something**, but that would be me guessing. She hasn’t talked to me about you, so I don’t know. The thing between her and Seungyeon, from what I know, they just hookup sometimes, it’s nothing serious. Not on Yongsun-unnie’s end, at least. I suspect Seungyeon-unnie likes her a bit, but, again, that’s me guessing. I don’t know for sure.”

The athlete’s stomach turned inside out at the thought of Seungyeon holding Yongsun the way she held Yongsun. Hyejin sensed her discomfort.

“None of that matters though. Unnie isn’t looking for anything serious right now. She has a lot on her mind and is trying to have fun and get comfortable with herself. Contrary to what you may believe, I’m a fan of the two of you being together. Just not right now. I believe you when you say that you’re going to put more effort in. You’d be great for her and she’d be great for you when you are **both** ready. She’s not there yet.”

Things sounded dismal. Not great. But something Hyejin said earlier came back to mind.

“So . . . you think she feels something for me?”

“**That** is what you held onto?” The youngest laughed a bit.

“Yes, it is. I liked her before with no chance of hope. Now there’s **something** to hold onto. A chance. That’s progress, right?”

“Yes, it’s progress.”

“Why do you think she might like me?”

“Look at the two of you. It’d be weird if you were that close and she had zero feelings. The way she is with you is different, I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part, who knows?” Having received no response from the athlete after a few moments, Hyejin announced her departure, saying she was going to find Wheein and Yongsun.

Heeyeon had texted her that she and the rest of the '92ers left to find food before they’d call it a night. Byulyi was left alone with her thoughts, and she had plenty of those. There was no correct way of going about things. After their lunch and the time spent together in the club, it felt like she and Yongsun were back on track. Their rapport was good, they were clicking. Right now, it was either she went back to pining in silence or she proceeded full speed ahead with amplifying her efforts to be considered as a viable romantic option.

At that moment, Byulyi caught a glimpse of Wheein, Hyejin, and Yongsun on the balcony outside the private room she sat in. The three were in their own world, dancing seductively to a sensual R&B tune. Yongsun, though . . . Byulyi could only let out a deep exhale at Yongsun’s actions. Oblivious to the eyes attentively on her and her every action, the graduate student shook her hips in sync with the music, a dangerous smile adorning her face. Byulyi would be damned if she left her out there alone looking **that** good.

Quickly abandoning her seat, the senior joined her friends. With Wheein and Hyejin dancing together, the brunette confidently grabbed a hold of Yongsun’s hips from behind, feeling slight trepidation as she felt the shorter woman freeze.

“Don’t stop because of me,” Moonbyul laughed, voice husky. Loosening her grip slightly allowed Yongsun to turn around in her arms.

“Excuse me, ma’am, I was dancing **alone**,” she cheekily told the athlete who stood there with a dumb smile on her face.

“Dancing is meant for two,” she leaned down and whispered into the older woman’s left ear.

Even though, Yongsun rolled her eyes, Moonbyul thanked the heavens when she turned back around and, with the athlete pressed closely against her back, resumed her hip gyrations.

Unsure of where the confidence came from, Byulyi rested her arms on the banister in front of them, caging Yongsun between them as she pressed against the blonde’s back. Engrossed in the moment, she tucked her face in the nook behind the shorter woman’s right ear, breathing heavily against the area. Every breath expelled against the area elicited goosebumps.

The tension between them was palpable, both seemingly content with—for this one song—doing and not thinking. Moonbyul was more than fine with that. As a hand snuck back and grabbed hold of her head, pulling it lower and closer to Yongsun’s neck, the athlete figured Yongsun, too, was okay with just doing and not thinking. She didn’t fight it. In fact, she pushed a bit further, slowly skimming her nose along her best friend’s neck as she enjoyed the sensation of Yongsun grinding on her. It was sublime. It was also too short.

Before she knew it, a more upbeat song cut through their bubble, effectively ending the moment. Byulyi backed up, giving Yongsun space, but never removing her eyes from the woman in front of her. When Yongsun turned around, their eyes met for a moment, the older playfully grabbing the brim of Moonbyul’s baseball cap.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Yongsun smiled shyly.

“Okay,” Byulyi laughed. “Ready to go?” There was no point in staying any longer. She was already too worked up and didn’t think anything further would be helpful.

_“_ _I don’t think she’s ready for anything serious.”_

_“_ _Unnie isn’t looking for anything serious right now.”_

_“She’s not there yet.”_

Their dance was a good point at which to end the night.

“Yeah. I’m tired.”

“Okay. Let’s see what Wheein and Hyejin want to do then we can go.”

_“Maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part, who knows?”_

Maybe it was wishful thinking on Byulyi’s part, too, but it felt like, for those few minutes their bodies were joined, Yongsun let her guard down. And it felt like there was, in fact, **something** there. It felt like she had a chance.

She’d try. She’d throw her hat into the race and see what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at Moon Byulyi!
> 
> Thank you to all those that have left comments, bookmarked, read silently, saved for later, whatever. Could have never imagined this level of support. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ve received a lot of feedback these past few chapters, all constructive, so thank you for so freely sharing your thoughts! I read all comments and think seriously about how to continue improving.
> 
> *haejangguk: Korean hangover soup


	32. "Cool Beans!"

“Okay, superstar. Where do you want to start?”

“Was kinda hoping you’d be able to tell me,” Byul nervously rubbed her neck.

It felt as if the direction of this conversation would significantly affect her future, and, despite knowing that this meeting was happening today, Byulyi felt unprepared. She was in over her head.

Usually the room in the Coaches’ Suite where she felt most comfortable, Coach Do’s office felt stuffy today. Repositioning herself for the nth time, the senior took a swig of water from her SNU-branded water bottle as she looked on expectantly at the older woman behind the contemporary L-shaped executive desk.

“Can you stop, please? You’re making me nervous,” the young coach informed her.

“Sorry,” Byulyi apologized, immediately stopping her fingers from drumming against the desk’s surface.

“We’re just talking things out. Calm down.”

“Easier said than done,” the athlete mumbled.

“Not really, but anyway, let’s try this instead: which leagues are you interested in?”

“Whichever leagues are options, I guess.”

“They’re all options, Byul. Please be more specific.”

That was news to her.

“I really don’t know, Coach,” Moonbyul glumly confessed.

“Do you even **want** to go pro? I’m not trying to be mean, but it seems like you’re not the most excited about this.”

“It’s not that. It would be cool to play professionally, but there’s so much to consider. I don’t even know where I’d start.” The least she could do was be honest with the coach who, out of the goodness of her heart, was taking time to walk her through what this process might look like.

Since the conversation with Coach Ok the week prior, Byulyi hadn’t given much thought to what they’d discussed. As such, it came as a surprise when, early Monday morning, the Head Coach contacted her asking if a meeting should be set up with Coach Do or not. Saying no didn’t seem like an option, so Byul said yes. That’s how she found herself in front of Coach Do this Tuesday afternoon, a nervous, clueless wreck. She knew nothing about playing professionally, hadn’t given it much—if any—thought, and was basically wasting her coach’s time.

“Again, I ask, do you **want** to play professionally?” The question didn’t come off as judgmental.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but I haven’t thought seriously about it. Coach mentioned it last week, and then it was Midnight Madness, now it’s the Tuesday after Midnight Madness.” The hope was that her Coach understood what she was trying to say.

“You were partying all weekend and didn’t have time to think this through,” she read between the lines. After Byul nodded, Siwan chuckled softly. “Got it. Well, in the spirit of honesty, Coach Ok wants a progress report from me after you and I finish meeting, so . . . we have to be somewhat productive. Let’s start with an overview of the different leagues out there and the level of interest different teams have in you.”

For the next hour or so, Moonbyul listened attentively as her coach explained the pros and cons of leagues around the world, including the pay structures and incentives that each had to offer. An avid fan of the sport, she had watched games from every one of the leagues mentioned. It was shocking, then, to learn of the offers that so many of the teams she studied were ready to make to have her play for them. Coach Do made sure to note that most of them were estimates of how much she might earn, but even so, Moonbyul was left speechless.

“Thoughts? I’ve been talking forever. It’s your turn now.”

“Those are some big numbers,” she said in shock.

“Yeah, they are. Which is why Coach is making sure you seriously consider it.”

“That’s not what she told me.”

“Did she give you the whole ‘You don’t have to want to go down that path’ spiel? I shouldn’t call it a spiel, that makes it sound like she’s lying,” Siwan thought out loud. “You don’t have to want that life, but she would be disappointed if you didn’t look into it. So would I. And the entire staff. You need to go pro. I don’t even know why you were considering anything else. The moment your senior year started, you should’ve found an agent and had them start fielding offers for you.”

“Where was I supposed to find an agent?”

“All you had to do was come to any of the coaches and say you wanted an agent. We would have found you an agent.”

“So . . . if I tell you I want an agent, you’ll help me find one?”

“We already have connections with an agency. Say the word and I’ll make the call. We could be meeting with someone as soon as next week if you’d like.”

“I don’t know if I can afford an agent right now, Coach.”

“There’s no charge until you actually sign somewhere. That’s their policy for university athletes, at least. That’s why the agents work so hard to get you a good contract and a sizable signing bonus. With **you**? Please. I’m sure all those at the agency are clamoring to be assigned to you should you decide to play professionally. You’re a walking fat check.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Moonbyul processed the information that was dumped on her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to play professionally, she had just never thought it through which, looking at things objectively now, was naïve of her. All signs pointed to this career path.

In the back of her mind though, some doubt remained. For months now, she had been preparing applications for business schools and, thinking about it, that was still something she wanted to pursue. Basketball was her life, and, while she knew it wouldn’t last forever, the doors it opened for her would. Thus far, she had received an elite education at no cost to her family. Basketball made that possible. Part of her thought it would be wise to ride things out for as long as she could and get an MBA out of this. That degree would change her life—no one would be able to take it away from her, and it all but guaranteed her a well-paying job. The security it promised was appealing.

The amount of money Coach Do believed she could make in one season playing professionally though . . .

Moonbyul was conflicted.

“Take a week to think things over. Let me know next Tuesday, the latest, if you want to meet with someone from the agency to hear more specifics about how this would work.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t see any reason why you wouldn’t at least hear what an agent would have to say. There’s nothing to lose by taking a meeting.”

She was right, Byul had nothing to lose. In fact, it sounded like she had everything to gain. Still, the senior wanted to be smart about things. She’d take her time and contemplate her options.

*

Moonbyul had no classes on Tuesdays. Normally, she’d be in the gym right now, either lifting weights or getting shots up, but the meeting with Coach Do and the lack of sleep from Midnight Madness weekend was taking a toll on her.

It was 2:30 pm. Practice was at 6:00 pm. She had time to kill.

Checking her phone as she left the Coaches’ Suite, a smile crept onto the brunette’s face as she found a response from Yongsun awaiting her.

**From: Yong**

My day’s okay. One of my students cancelled.

I can eat lunch today 🙌 _2:26 pm_

**To: Yong**

So what you’re saying is that you don’t normally eat lunch? _2:31 pm_

**From: Yong**

😅

How’s your day going? _2:34 pm_

**To: Yong**

Way to change the subject.

My day’s fine. Free time now.

When are you taking lunch? _2:35 pm_

**From: Yong**

3-4 pm _2:35 pm_

**To: Yong**

I’ll come get you. We’ll eat together. _2:36 pm_

**From: Yong**

Cool beans. See you then. _2:37 pm_

**To: Yong**

Don’t say ‘cool beans’. No one says that. _2:37 pm_

**From: Yong**

Cool beans! _2:37 pm_

Shaking her head affectionately, Byulyi closed her messages and opened Twitter, laughing out loud at the outrageous memes that comprised the entirety of her timeline—the locker room was empty. No one would hear her.

Calming herself down, she sent a few of the funniest tweets to Yongsun before pocketing her phone altogether. It wouldn’t take her long to walk to The Center—it was part of the athletic complex, a five-minute walk at most. She had fifteen minutes to kill. Her mind, predictably, went to Yongsun.

What happened on Saturday stayed on the dance floor. They didn’t talk about it.

After walking off hand‑in‑hand, the two of them returned to their hotel room, where they took turns washing up before falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. It was their usual routine, yet it felt different to Byulyi. **Still** buzzing from the dance she shared with her best friend, though, the senior **knew** she hadn’t imagined the way Yongsun clutched onto her a bit tighter than usual that night. It was real. She was sure of it.

The thought gave her hope that her bold actions had made an immediate impression on Yongsun.

Brunch the next day effectively squashed her optimism.

_“Unnie! What is that on your neck?” Heeyeon excitedly yelled at their table._

_The restaurant that the five of them had settled on was a block away from their hotel. Thanks to the rowdy night before, the establishment was a ghost town. Eleven in the morning seemed to be too early a time for their peers to venture outside the comforts of their beds in search of food. Moonbyul, herself, nearly passed on the meal with her friends, but Wheein and Hyejin insisted. Notorious oversleepers, the two youngest girls made it clear that if **they** could get up for a communal meal, everyone else could, too._

_Dragging Heeyeon along, the group hadn’t even been seated for 10 minutes before Byulyi’s roommate shouted her exclamation._

_Yongsun’s hands instantly flew to cover the area in question._

_“Ooooh, unnie, where’d you get that from?” Hyejin asked conspiratorially as she smirked at Moonbyul. Blood running cold, the senior busied herself with her cell phone while the others continued teasing Yongsun._

** _Group Message: Ahnyonce, Wheeinie, Hee-yawn, Byul_ **

** _Ahnyonce_ **

_Byul-unnie, you work quick, huh?! _😉_ 11:13 am_

** _Hee-yawn_ **

_Get it, Byulyi! 11:13 am_

** _Wheeinie_ **

👏_ 11:13 am_

_Embarrassing._

** _Byul_ **

_It’s not from me. 11:14 am_

_She didn’t need to look up to know that three pairs of sympathetic eyes were trained on her. The intensity of their gazes burned her skin._

_Yongsun rattled off something about forgetting her concealer would wear off, but Byulyi was already too far into throwing herself a pity party to pay much attention._

The memory made her laugh. All she wanted that day was to get back to UV and into her bed. Instead, once the door to their apartment shut behind them, Heeyeon held her hostage, delivering a 30-minute long motivational speech. It was as chaotic as one would expect.

A couple days later, though, the basketball star felt reinvigorated, a renewed sense of resolve about her. She’d work harder until Yongsun caught on. Of course, confessing outright was an option . . . just not one Byulyi was brave enough for yet.

*

“Try some.”

“I don’t want any.”

“Byul-ah,” Yongsun whined. “Try some!”

“No.”

A piece of spicy pork gimbap pressing against her lips, the brunette pursed her lips and attempted to turn her head but was held in place as Yongsun’s left hand gripped her chin.

“Byul-ah,” the blonde’s voice grew gentle, “try some. Please.”

Her hand was so soft. It was gripping the hell out of her chin, Byul thought, but it was also **extremely **soft. She couldn’t concentrate.

The plan was to pick Yongsun up from The Center, take her to the to-go eatery in the building’s lobby, and, hopefully, chip away at the just-a-friend label she was sure the older woman used when describing her. Fending off attempts to force-feed her was not part of the plan.

“You know I don’t like spicy stuff,” she mumbled, intent on keeping the food pressed against her lip out of her mouth.

“You don’t trust me?” Yongsun asked with an exaggerated pout.

“I do. Still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like spicy stuff.”

“Do you trust me, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“With your life?”

The playful atmosphere dimmed a bit. As with Saturday night, the athlete **knew** she wasn’t imagining the way Yongsun’s eyes softened as she asked that question.

“You know the answer to that,” Byul responded, voice quiet.

“Do I?” Yongsun challenged.

“You do. I know you do.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because I know.” The athlete’s smirk grew exponentially as Yongsun playfully rolled her eyes.

“You think you know everything, huh?”

“Not everything,” Byul answered, pausing to hold Yongsun’s hand in place as her lips captured the food that was held out for her. “Just you. I know you.”

Watching intently, a sense of accomplishment washed over her as the blonde’s lips grudgingly curled upward.

“This is good, by the way. You were right.”

She usually knew better than to compliment Yongsun or agree in any way that her friend was right about something. The older girl always grew smug and arrogant. Today, though, Byulyi found it cute as the woman next to her bragged and boasted, spouting “I knew you’d like it” nonstop.

“Oh. So you think you know everything, huh?” Moonbyul parroted.

“Not everything. Just you. I know you,” Yongsun played along, voice tender and sincere.

They sat shoulder-to-bicep, staring at each other, neither wanting to be the first to look away. One of them eventually did though. They couldn’t tell you who. It didn’t matter. Because the end of their competitive stare down gave way to an equally tense but differently charged atmosphere. One full of teasing glances and shy smiles. Moonbyul let Yongsun feed her a few more pieces of food before the two fell back into their usual rhythm of things, talking about their days and debriefing the tweets Byul filled Yongsun’s notifications with.

“Don’t think I’m going to ignore the fact that you would have skipped lunch today had one of your students not cancelled,” the athlete announced. It was a few minutes to 4:00 pm. Remembering that she had a session with a student at that time, Yongsun made way to leave, but Byulyi insisted on walking her back.

“I usually bring snacks to hold me over. Today was an anomaly.”

“It won’t an anomaly anymore,” Moonbyul ignored Yongsun’s inquisitive gaze and continued looking ahead of her as she walked. “From now on, I’ll be bringing you lunch every Tuesday. You can’t work for five hours and expect to get by on snacks alone.” A few tense moments of silence passed as they neared The Center’s entrance.

Reaching their destination, both stood in the hallway facing each other.

“You don’t have to do that,” the graduate student timidly attempted to dissuade her.

“I know.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Yongsun got slightly testy. What was it with her and refusing to accept help?

“And I didn’t ask for your permission to do it.”

“What if I decide to not eat it?”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Byulyi snorted softly. “You’re going to eat it because you hate wasting food. Stop being difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult.” Arms crossed against her chest made the athlete smile.

“You are, and you’re wasting your time. I’m bringing you lunch. Get over it.” Grabbing hold of the shorter woman’s shoulders, Moonbyul turned Yongsun toward The Center’s entrance before opening the door for her. “You and that cute pout of yours have a 4:00 appointment. Hurry up before you’re late. I’ll message you when I reach the locker room.”

“Whatever.” She almost stomped away, but Byulyi made sure to block her path by jutting out an arm.

“Excuse me, no hug goodbye?”

“You’re seriously **so** annoying! I’m going to be late.”

“Then make it quick. Chop, chop.” Yongsun was legitimately growing more agitated with each passing second, and it might have been counterintuitive to her ultimate goal of trying to get the graduate student to maybe‑kind of‑sort of‑possibly like her, but Byul couldn’t completely ignore how much she enjoyed toying with the older girl. It was **so much fun**.

Caught up in their bickering, the pair almost didn’t hear the throat clearing behind them.

“Uh, do you mind if I pass?” A young man decked out in SNU Taekwondo‑engraved sweats asked hesitantly.

“Ah, sorry,” Moonbyul apologized, bowing as she moved to the side, pulling Yongsun with her.

“Sorry,” the blonde followed suit. “See? You play too much,” she angrily whispered.

“Calm down,” Byulyi laughed her best friend’s worries off. “If you would’ve given me hug right away, we wouldn’t have been blocking the door. Lesson of the day: listen to Byulyi. Now, can I get my hug, please? You’re going to be late.”

Rolling her eyes and kissing her teeth the entire time, Yongsun finally walked into the brunette’s open arms. Already content, Byul grew even more so when she heard the muffled words against her clothes.

“You’re annoying.” Despite her words, Moonbyul felt the older woman sink into the embrace.

“I know. Thank goodness I have you as a frie-, thank goodness I have you in my life.” And thank goodness she saved herself from that almost slip up. She refused to give Yongsun anymore reasons to still view her as just a friend. “Okay, now go be the best academic advisor and advise this student on academics. Talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay. Have a good practice.”

“I’ll try my best.”

*

The sounds of her teammates filtering into the locker room woke Moonbyul from her impromptu nap. In one of her rare moments of brilliance, she’d changed into her practice gear before laying on the couch and falling asleep. There wasn’t much else for her to do upon waking up, but as captain, the senior thought it would set a good example if she headed to the courts an hour early and shot around.

Grabbing the team speakers, she took her time walking down the hall to the practice gym. Setting up at half court, Byul connected her phone using Bluetooth and selected a playlist she knew would give her the strength needed to expend energy.

With her upbeat tunes filling the gym, the brunette couldn’t fight the urge to do one last check of Twitter before abandoning her phone for the next hour. The regret was immediate.

**ess why** @seungyeon 20m: We’re still on for this weekend, right? @yongsun

**Kim Yongsun** @yongsun 10m: @seungyeon Yup, yup!

**ess why** @seungyeon 2m: @yongsun Cool beans!

The wind knocked out of her sails, Byul sent one last message before setting her phone down and giving basketball her undivided attention.

**To: Hee-yawn**

Going to need another pep talk 😩 _5:04 pm_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the longest of updates, but a bridge was needed, so here’s the bridge. Another update this week . . . if I can, I will.
> 
> Had a moment of enlightenment earlier this week where I realized how happy I am with this story. It’s a lot more demanding that originally anticipated, but I really like where it’s going and am excited (for now) about how things will play out. There are parts of later chapters already written but we have to get there and I’m so ready to get there.
> 
> I say it a lot, but I sincerely mean it: thank you all for reading! Until next week . . . or later this week? We’ll see.


	33. Sounds Like Drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's kissing and whatnot, but I don't think it warrants a full M-rating.

The apology took her by surprise.

Truthfully, it was an inconvenience, a wrench in her plans. Yongsun **wanted** to be upset. **Needed **to let it out. And after her impromptu trip back to UV the morning after everything, she was **ready** to do just that. She was ready to confront Moonbyul about the Jiah thing. Was ready to, if need be, scream and fuss and fight about the general lack of consideration she felt the younger woman had for her when it came to situations like the one they found themselves in only hours earlier. She was ready to speak her mind.

Then Byul apologized and paid for their lunch.

It was a **really **good apology, but damnit if it didn’t piss Yongsun off even more.

She wasn’t yet ready to forgive, and the last thing she wanted was to forget. What a large part of her wanted was to air her grievances in dramatic fashion and make the younger woman sit in the hurt she caused—because, yes, her growing romantic feelings for Moonbyul aside, it hurt tremendously feeling as if her best friend didn’t trust her with certain information. Heeyeon, Wheein, and Hyejin were always up to date on who Byulyi shared beds, couches, and bathrooms with, yet she was always left in the dark. Would it have also hurt to know the details of the athlete’s more intimate dealings with other people? Yes. But at least then Yongsun would know what she was up against and could manage her emotions accordingly. As things stood, she was none the wiser about that part of her best friend’s life. It hurt.

_“When it comes to you, yes. I pay attention to everything.”_

_“She shouldn’t have brought you into it, and I shouldn’t have created a situation where any of that could have happened.”_

_“I apologized because the whole thing was a mess that I handled poorly. Also, because your opinion matters a lot to me—**you** matter a lot to me.”_

Just like that, Yongsun’s resolve crumbled. A cute smile and a few overly‑smooth words made it impossible to continue being upset even though being upset was exactly what she wanted and needed in that moment.

Since then, to Yongsun’s confusion, the cute smiles and overly‑smooth words and actions hadn’t stopped. Moonbyul continued throughout the rest of the week, most notably on Tuesday when she showed up at The Center insisting the two eat lunch together and promising to make that meal a permanent part of their weeks from then on. It was now Friday. The athlete had an away game to prepare for and had called Yongsun over to her apartment for help with “an urgent matter”.

“I just got out of class, Byulyi. Why did I ‘seriously need to run here’?”

“I need help with my tie,” the younger woman pouted while holding up the piece of fabric in question.

“**That** is what you called me here for?”

“Yeah. We’re leaving in an hour and a half and I can’t tie it. That’s super urgent if you ask me. Coach is strict about this stuff. If even a hair is out of place, we’d never hear the end of it.”

“Okay . . . but you wore ties for away games last year and managed without my help.”

“Those were clip-ons. This,” she thrust the object in question into Yongsun’s face, “is the real deal.”

The Women’s Basketball team had a dress code for all away games: suits. Grey suits, crisp white button-up shirts, navy blue ties, and black shoes. The way her class and work schedules were arranged last schoolyear, Yongsun never saw this outfit in person. Depending on the time she arrived back on campus after a game, if she wasn’t celebrating with teammates, Byulyi would make a quick pitstop at her room to change into something more casual before heading to Yongsun’s apartment. This was the first time the graduate student had the pleasure of taking in the sight before her—she was trying her best not to ogle. Wearing what she was wearing—a few of her shirt’s buttons undone—and with her long brown hair cascading down her back, Moonbyul looked **good**. Actually, she looked more than good. The athlete looked exceptionally sexy. Yongsun had to forcefully pull her mind from the gutter when she felt flickers of desire creeping up within her.

Moonbyul was none the wiser, still in the doorway prattling on about the stupid tie. Brushing past her, Yongsun headed for Byulyi’s bedroom, carefully placing her bookbag on the desk chair before sitting atop the well-made bed. Moonbyul, of course, trailed not far behind.

“How do you even know that I know how to tie a tie?” The graduate student amusedly asked.

“I don’t,” the senior blushed, “but you’re really smart and you know everything, so I figured you’d know how to tie one of these. It’s not that big of a deal if you can’t. I can ask one of the coaches or someone on the team.”

“Okay. We’ve established that I can’t help you with the tie. Can I go now?”

“Um . . . well . . . there are two more reasons I asked you over. I kind of need a pep talk before today’s game.”

Moon Byulyi would be the end of her.

“Isn’t that your coach’s job?”

“Yeah, but I need, like, a special, customized Kim Yongsun pep talk. Those are the most effective.”

As Yongsun laughed off the way her heart trembled at those words, Moonbyul joined her atop the bed, resting her head on the older woman’s left shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m being very serious right now. It’s my last ‘first game’. My college career is ending. That’s a big deal. Guess I needed some words of encouragement or whatever.” Eyes trained on the desk across the room, Yongsun felt rather than saw the athlete shrug next to her.

“You don’t need any words of encouragement from anyone,” she tenderly stroked the smooth skin at Moonbyul’s chin and jaw. “You’ve proved time and time again that you’re the best of the best and after this summer, you’re even more dangerous of a basketball player than you were last year. I guess it sucks that playing in college is coming to an end, but, honestly, your season hasn’t even officially started yet. Maybe save the dramatics for, like, halfway through the season or something. Or for before the championship game. Or for after actually playing **one** game first.”

“Ha ha. You’re so funny,” Moonbyul said dryly.

“This is why you shouldn’t ask me for pep talks. I suck at them. This one was horrible.”

“Mm mm,” Byul gently shook her head, “this was one of your best. Extremely effective. I’m suddenly full of confidence. Ready to tackle any obstacle in my way.”

“Ass,” Yongsun laughed out loud.

“I’m being serious! I really do feel better. Thanks, Yong,” the senior responded, voice dripping with sincerity.

Letting a few moments of silence sit between them, Yongsun’s curiosity got the best of her.

“What was the other reason? You said there were two more reasons you called me here. I gave you your pep talk, what was the other one?”

“I missed you. We didn’t see each other yesterday and I didn’t want us to go two days without seeing each other so . . . yeah.”

Still stroking Moonbyul’s face, she didn’t want to fall victim just yet to her friend’s charming ways. “We could’ve seen each other when you got back from your game.”

“I wanted to see you before then.” She spoke with an air of confidence and finality.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Yongsun had several questions, one being: what the hell was Moonbyul on? The brunette could be flirtatious at times, but this was . . . different, it felt different. Wasting time questioning Byul’s actions would get her nowhere. Not at the moment. Instead of trying to figure out what angle Byulyi was trying to play, Yongsun sat stroking the younger girl’s face until the time came for them both to leave.

Moon Byulyi would be the **end **of her. Did she mention that Moon Byulyi would be the end of her? SNU senior and basketball star Moon Byulyi would be the end of her.

*

Saturday brought with it some much needed peace and quiet. It had been one week since Midnight Madness festivities, but Yongsun still hadn’t recovered. The Monday after everything, she jumped right back into work and her classes, all of which were challenging. Worthwhile, yes, but **so** much work.

The weekend couldn’t come soon enough.

Her plans for the day: sleep, sleep, and more sleep. She and Seungyeon were to hang out that evening, but until then, Yongsun wanted nothing more than to attempt to catch the hours of sleep that slipped away the weekend before.

The dull vibrations of her cell against the mattress seemed to have different ideas.

Not checking who it was, Yongsun lethargically grabbed and answered the device.

“Hello,” she yawned.

“Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping. It’s past one in the afternoon.”

“Tone the judgment down, Eric. I don’t need or want it.”

“Understood.”

“What do you want,” she asked gruffly. Pulling the covers tighter around her, she awaited a response.

“To check on my friend.”

“Bullshit. You want to know what happened last weekend.”

“Then why did you ask if you knew what I wanted?”

Groaning out loud, the graduate student reminded herself that this was her **friend**. As annoying as he was, Eric was her friend. She would suck it up and not get pissy with him simply because his phone call came at an inopportune moment.

“You’re annoying.”

“Everyone’s annoying to you.”

“Do you want the story or not?”

“Shutting up now.”

“Thank you.”

Since his slight scolding a few months ago, Yongsun had made sure to call and text Eric more often, keeping him updated on her life and, in turn, staying updated on his. During their last conversation over a week ago, the pair spoke of, among other things, Midnight Madness weekend. Eric was intrigued by Yongsun choosing to spend part of that time with Seungyeon instead of all of her time with Moonbyul.

After catching him up on **everything** that happened, his curiosity about her and Seungyeon skyrocketed.

“So . . . the two of you are not together?”

“Correct.”

“But you hookup from time to time?”

“When the mood hits, yes.”

“When the mood hits . . .” he slowly repeated.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

His tone had something to it.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What, Eric? Just say it.”

“I’m just saying . . . she has you all over her social media, and it sounds like you two are pretty cozy.”

“She has all her friends on her social media accounts,” Yongsun defensively shot his accusation down.

“Is she as close with all of them as she is with you?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s not a bad thing. It sounds like you two are getting along well.”

“We’re friends.”

“And you want it to stay that way?”

“I do. Things are . . . uncomplicated this way. We have fun together without the pressure of anything more. I really like that.”

“Would you consider dating her?”

“I wouldn’t consider dating anyone at the moment.”

“If you say so. Anyway, how’s Moonbyul?” He’d been itching to ask that. Yongsun knew it.

“Just told you about her. She’s been having a **great** time.” Yes, there was some residual bitterness over the Jiah thing. After the apology, Yongsun kept a promise to herself to not hold the situation over Moonbyul’s head but having to repeat the story of what happened **did** sting some. **What** did those other girls have that she didn’t? Sunmi, Haena, Jiah, whoever else. What was it about them that made Moonbyul see them as more? That made her attracted to them and not Yongsun?

“Sounds like a touchy subject. Anyway, happy to hear that you two talked things out. A first. Congratulations,” he mocked.

“This is why you’re single. Hope you stay that way.”

“Ouch. I’m single because there’s no one to date and nothing to do in Suwon. **But** that will change very soon.”

Surprised and excited about something finally happening in Eric’s life—he was always “fine” and “working”—Yongsun zipped her lips and listened carefully.

“There’s a high likelihood that I’m moving to Seoul.”

“What?!”

“Yeah . . .”

He’d hit his ceiling at SKKU. Working as a Marketing Manager for five years with minimal salary increases was one burden he silently carried throughout his time there, but he held out hope that his hard work would have him among the names considered for the recently vacated Director of Marketing position.

It didn’t.

Feeling disrespected and having long been over the limited social options for young professionals in Suwon, Eric looked to his network for help identifying positions that would suit him. The search yielded exceptional results, with him leaning heavily towards one of the options shared with him.

“Did it **have** to be **there**?”

“There’s nothing wrong with KU. Since when did you buy into that SNU-KU rivalry?”

She had no idea.

Still, it felt like a betrayal that he’d be taking a job in Athletics there. “You’re supporting the enemy.”

“The **enemy**? You don’t even care about SNU sports. You’re just saying this because Moonbyul’s on the basketball team. She’s graduating after this year, so there’ll be no more conflicts of interest after that happens. You can support me and KU wholeheartedly.”

“I’d rather choke.”

“What you do with your partners behind closed doors is none of my business.” After taking a moment to enjoy his stale joke, Eric got serious. “Your feelings for the school aside, you can’t deny it’s a great opportunity. They’re bringing me in to interview for Assistant Director of Marketing. Final round. Putting me up in a hotel and everything.”

“Fancy.”

“Very. My interview is in the morning on Friday, but I’ll be around that night before leaving on Saturday. Let’s hang out! It’ll be an unofficial celebration for my birthday.”

“Next Friday is the first home game of the season. SNU vs. SKKU.”

“Fitting.”

“I’ve been thinking about getting Sirae and Seungyeon to go with the rest of us. Mentioning it to her later tonight, actually.”

“Ooooo, pillow talk. That’s cute.”

“Shut up!” Yongsun laughed. “It’s not like that. But it would be fun with the whole group. You should come!”

“Sounds like drama, but that’s fun, so I’ll be there. I’ll buy the tickets tonight since I imagine they’ll go quickly.”

“That’s smart,” Yongsun absentmindedly agreed. “Wait, why does it sound like drama?”

“You’re bringing former SKKU athletes to watch their old team play against SNU, a school SKKU hates. That sounds . . . messy.”

“Sirae and Seungyeon aren’t like that. They’re chill. It’ll be fine. We can all go out to drink, eat, and let loose after.”

“Was going to make a joke about the letting loose part, but I’ll stay quiet.”

“Please do.”

*

Both exhausted from the week, Yongsun and Seungyeon came to the mutual decision to spend their Saturday night in. Seungyeon suggested they use her apartment, which was fine by Yongsun—the pair had never hung out there before. It would be a nice change of scenery. The evening, however, didn’t turn out exactly as Yongsun envisioned. For starters, Seungyeon cooked them dinner.

She **thought** they’d maybe order some food before lazing around and letting the night unfold as it wished. Stepping into the decently-sized one-bedroom apartment, the graduate student was pleasantly surprised by the mouthwatering smell of **something** wafting through the air.

“What is that?” She asked Seungyeon, who had removed her shoes and walked down the short hall to enter the combined living room-kitchen.

“Food,” the taller woman yelled back loud enough so that the sound would meet Yongsun at the apartment’s entrance.

Ridding herself of her shoes too, she walked quickly to meet Seungyeon. “I know, but where did you get it from? It smells so good.”

“I made it,” she nonchalantly answered, attention on adjusting the temperature of one of the mini stove’s burners.

“Why’d you do that? We could’ve ordered something. I would’ve gladly paid for it since you always pay for everything.” She was panicking a little, her voice trembling.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise. I like cooking.”

Yongsun’s mind was reeling. People don’t just make meals for others. It was a meaningful act.

“Hey,” Seungyeon approached, holding Yongsun’s chin in her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she hedged. “You just . . . didn’t have to do all that. We could’ve ordered something and saved you all this effort.”

“Yongsun. It’s kimchi ramen, not some five-course meal. Don’t get me wrong, I hope you like it, but it wasn’t like I slaved over the stove for hours. We had to eat something, and I didn’t want to order out for the hundredth time this week.”

Her voice was soft, clearly attempting to calm Yongsun down. For the most part, it worked, but try as she might, the graduate student couldn’t completely shake the nagging feeling that told her this was weird. The last person to cook a meal for her was Jinyoung, and it came with him asking her to be his girlfriend. While she doubted Seungyeon would take things to that extreme, this was still a lot to digest. No pun intended. Ultimately though, the blonde set her suspicions aside to enjoy the meal because, well, the food was delicious. Like . . . unexpectedly above average good.

After dinner, things loosened up some. It felt, Yongsun thought, like they were getting back to **them** again. Time flew as the young women made light of the hardships they experienced earlier in the week, both able to help the other find the humor that lay in the awkward conversations had with supervisors or freeloading group project members. The odd vibes from earlier gradually faded into oblivion until Yongsun realized the physical distance Seungyeon had kept between them once they relocated to the living room couch.

“Do I have cooties or something?” She finally gathered the courage to ask.

Scrolling through the channels on her television, Seungyeon took a moment to acknowledge Yongsun’s question. Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, she asked, “Why would you have cooties?”

“Because you’ve been all the way on the other side of the couch ever since after dinner.”

“Oh. I was trying to not make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Why would I feel that way?”

“Because it’s your first time at my place and I didn’t want you to think I invited you here just to make a move on you.”

“I would never think that of you.”

“Still,” Seungyeon shrugged shyly, “didn’t want to chance it. If anything happens tonight, it’ll be because **you** want something to happen. Not because I made anything happen.”

It was easily one the sweetest things anyone had said to her all year. And it immediately brought back the red flags from earlier. They were friends that sometimes kissed and teased each other. **That** arrangement did not call for the level of thought and preparation Seungyeon was putting in. Things with them were supposed to be easy, spur of the moment. All this extra effort felt indicative of more.

“You’re too sweet to be single. You should get a girlfriend.” It was the cowardly way of reminding Seungyeon about where they stood. Because Yongsun was a coward, but a coward that didn’t want to hurt Seungyeon.

“I’ll get one when you get one,” the other girl laughed.

“I don’t want one. I don’t want a relationship right now.”

“Neither do I.”

“You kind of act like you do,” Yongsun hesitantly admitted.

Moments of silence passed.

“Yongsun, come here,” Seungyeon called for her.

“What happened to you not making moves on me,” she rolled her eyes, but still stood to walk over and settle in the lap now waiting for her.

“I’m not making a move, I’m clearing things up.” Wrapping her arms around Yongsun’s waist, Seungyeon continued, “Is this about dinner? I thought we moved past that?”

“We did.”

“Okay. Then what’s the problem? Because you’ve made it crystal clear that you don’t want a relationship. I’d have to be out of my mind stupid to try to force you into one. We’re friends. I get it. I’m fine with it.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes, I am. I’m also **very** fine with the kissing, so . . . you know, we could keep doing that.” Lowering her voice, Seungyeon jokingly whispered, “This is the part where you kiss me.”

“Why do **I **have to kiss **you**?”

“Because I promised not to make moves on you tonight. You have to initiate.”

“You’re a clown,” Yongsun gently slapped her shoulder and laughed lightly.

As she always did, Seungyeon pierced through the uncomfortable atmosphere by addressing things head on. Something so basic never failed to turn Yongsun on.

Leaning in, she left a series of pecks on the brunette’s tantalizing lips before sucking gently on her neck. All the while, Seungyeon let her. She let Yongsun take control. It was liberating, addicting, knowing that her actions affected the woman beneath her so much that moans so freely fell from her lips. A burst of confidence surged through Yongsun’s body at how well she seemed to be doing at taking control.

Then Seungyeon gently eased her backwards until her back hit the couch cushions.

Then it was lust that shot through her. And Yongsun was fine with that, too.

Letting Seungyeon have her way, the graduate student’s breaths grew shallow as the other woman sensually trailed a hand up and down her body. Playing with the hem of Yongsun’s t-shirt, Seungyeon huskily asked, “Can I?”

Could she touch her underneath her shirt? Could she take the shirt off completely? Yongsun didn’t know what it was she was asking permission for, but regardless of what Seungyeon was asking, Yongsun’s response would be the same.

“Yes.”

Seconds later, soft lips hungrily crashed onto her mouth and a hand crept beneath her shirt to cup one of her bra-covered breasts. Moaning incessantly, Yongsun got even louder as skilled fingers continued massaging her chest and even more skilled lips latched onto her neck.

“Don’t leave a mark,” she breathlessly instructed. “Last time you left a mark.”

“I’m sorry. I must have gotten carried away. Did I get you in trouble with anyone?” Seungyeon sat up slightly.

“Is that your sneaky way of asking if I’m hooking up with other people?” She chuckled.

“I guess it is.” Seungyeon at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

“I’m not.”

“Okay," the taller woman nodded. "As for your earlier point, I’ll make sure to not leave a mark.”

There was a definite shift in their actions after that back and forth. More accurately, there was a shift in Seungyeon’s actions. Words escaped Yongsun—the hands and lips caressing her body felt heavenly and rendered her capable of only moans and grunts—but she was acutely aware of how the other woman’s actions became less ravenous and more sensual. The tongue in her mouth didn’t hungrily and sloppily roam about, it took its time exploring, occasionally teasing. The hand rubbing her chest went to tenderly hold her head and stroke her hair. Seungyeon softly gazed into her eyes every now and then, asking in hushed whispers if she was okay, if she was comfortable.

It was sweet—of course it was, **Seungyeon** was sweet—and Yongsun enjoyed it. She enjoyed the entire night. But Yongsun couldn’t shake the feeling that a lot of what they ended up doing seemed . . . intimate. Romantic, even. A lot of what they ended up doing seemed to, whether intentionally or not, express thoughts and feelings that couldn’t be verbalized.

It worried her. A lot.

*

“Your girl is really fucking good, I’ll give you that. My goodness,” Sirae spoke in awe, mouth slightly agape.

“Ew, look at her proud smile,” Chorong pointed at Yongsun’s face in disgust.

“Do you want me to lie? Of course I’m proud.” She’d never deny how much her heart swelled with joy when others acknowledged Moonbyul’s athletic greatness. She was brilliant at her craft and Yongsun would be damned if anyone said otherwise.

As she had predicted, the group outing to SNU’s first home game of the season was a hoot. Along with Wheein and Hyejin, a handful of others joined to bring life to the SNU-SKKU rivalry that wasn’t much of a rivalry. The two young girls, Changsub, and Heeyeon—who was experiencing her first ever game as a spectator—were staunchly pro-SNU. Unabashedly vocal in their support, the group of them found joy in ribbing and antagonizing Sirae and Seungyeon, the lone SKKU fans. Their former university got routed, 65-37, but it was admirable how, in the face of a blowout, Seungyeon and Sirae remained loyal and held out hope. Only now that the defeat was official was Sirae able to grudgingly acknowledge Moonbyul’s talent. Before that, she could only mutter a “this bitch again,” a “are you fucking kidding me?”, or “can we **try** to defend her? What the fuck.”

“She’s gotten even better since I last watched her play,” Eric chimed in. He and Chorong dubbed themselves neutral for the evening.

“She has. She works very hard.”

“Are you her PR person, Yongsun,” Changsub joked.

“I’m just speaking the truth,” the graduate student shrugged.

“It’s cute how you brag on her,” he reassured her, slipping away into a conversation that some of the others were having.

The only person not socializing as they waited for the teams to return from their locker rooms was Seungyeon. Actually, outside of cheering for SKKU, she’d been relatively quiet the whole night. Yongsun walked up to the taller woman, playfully covering the phone screen Seungyeon’s eyes were fixed on.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You’ve been quiet today.”

Seungyeon let out an ironic laugh. “There hasn’t been much to say. We got beaten. Badly.”

“That’s fair. Well, at least we’re all going out tonight. We can eat, drink, and forget about it,” Yongsun tried to cheer her friend up. Seungyeon wasn’t the loudest person, but Yongsun had never seen her **this** quiet.

“True. With this group, I’m sure it’ll be a fun night.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure,” she assured Yongsun, ruffling the blonde’s hair.

The two women opted to talk amongst themselves, catching up on the week’s noteworthy moments in pop culture until Coach Lim, the Head Coach of SKKU’s Women’s Basketball team, emerged from the tunnel that connected the court to the locker rooms. Pulling Sirae from a conversation with Heeyeon, the three went to greet their former coach. Given the unfortunate loss her team experienced that night, catching up with her past students seemed the highlight of the night for the seasoned coach.

Sharing fun anecdotes with each other for about thirty minutes, Yongsun excused herself from the group when she spotted a familiar brunette making her way through the crowd. Eager to congratulate Moonbyul on a game well done, she jog-walked through the crowd to reach her best friend, surprising the athlete with a firm back hug.

“You scared me. I thought someone was attacking me,” Byulyi said good-naturedly, eyes scanning the room.

“It’s possible. Might be time to get security,” Yongsun slid to Byul’s side, arms still locked around the taller woman’s waist.

“I’ll look into it. Have you seen my parents?”

“I forgot they’d be here. Haven’t seen them but looking forward to saying hi.”

Allowing herself to be pulled in every which direction, Yongsun followed behind Moonbyul, a sense of security and safety coursing through her as Byul removed her arm from around Yongsun’s neck and held onto one of her hands instead. As they walked through the crowd, the athlete cleared people out of their way with ease, always making sure that Yongsun was close behind. It was something small, but the way Moonbyul never let her go—even when it would be easier to forcibly move people using two hands—touched Yongsun. For all her immaturity at times, Byulyi **always** went out of the way to protect her, to make sure she was comfortable. The graduate student wondered if her best friend even realized at times that she was doing it.

They eventually found Byulyi’s parents deep in conversation with Wheein, Hyejin, and Heeyeon. Joining the fray, the group’s conversation flowed freely and naturally. The day wasn’t about her, the moment wasn’t about her, Yongsun knew this. Still, though, taking in the scenario in front of her, it was heartwarming and more than slightly surprising to fully grasp how much her life had changed in the past year. It was never something she could have predicted, but it tugged at her heartstrings knowing she’d created her own little family here at SNU. There was her friend group, but even the parents of her friends were there for her. Byulyi’s parents spoke to her with such comfortability. They treated her, as they did with Wheein, Hyejin, and Heeyeon, as if she was one of their own daughters. Park Kyungah complimented her endlessly, taking every opportunity to dote on her.

“Yongsun, look how beautiful you are! You’re growing well. I heard from Byulyi that you’re applying to jobs now?”

“Yes, Auntie.”

“It can be a tough time, but you’re graduating from a top school. You’ll find your way. Don’t stress too much about it.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“You shouldn’t. You’re young and smart and beautiful. I promise things will work out. Are you dating anyone?” The older woman whispered furtively.

Face warming and at a loss for words, Yongsun shook her head.

“You probably want to focus on finding a job first. That’s understandable. When you do decide to date though, make sure to find someone that you are fully compatible with. Someone that treats you well and that you feel comfortable with.”

“I’ll be sure to do that, Auntie,” she chuckled.

“Good. And when the time comes, consider **all** your options,” Byul’s mom said suggestively.

As awkward as the unsolicited dating advice **should** have been, Yongsun long ago came to accept that expecting the unexpected from Park Kyungah was the way to go.

Just in time, Moonbyul came to her rescue.

“Mom, why are you talking her ear off?”

“We were having a good conversation. Mind your business.”

Resting her forearms on top of Yongsun’s head, the athlete looked for confirmation of this. “Was she bothering you?”

“You’re bothering me,” Yongsun whined, pushing Byulyi off of her. “I’m not your armrest.”

“You could be. You should be. You’re short enough to be.”

“Byulyi, leave Yongsun alone. If you keep bothering her, she won’t take care of you anymore,” Byul’s mom laughed.

“Yes she will. I always annoy her and she takes care of me, just like she annoys me and I still take care of her. It’s our thing.”

_It’s our thing._

She said it so casually. And to her mother of all people. Since when did they have a “thing”?

There was no time to further ponder Byul’s weird words. Sirae interrupted, apologizing to Moonbyul’s mom and asking for permission to pull Yongsun away.

“Sorry about that, but Chorong, Changsub, and Eric are ready to go. They sent me to see if you and the others are good.”

“I guess. I think the others are wrapping up their conversations with Byul’s dad. Where’s Seungyeon?”

“She’s still talking to Coach Lim. You know how those two are.” They were, in fact, **very** close.

Her response dried in her throat as an arm draped around her shoulder.

“You all are leaving now?” Moonbyul pouted.

“We’re about to, yes.”

“Stay.”

“You know I can’t just ditch them,” Yongsun patiently reasoned. “And stop being rude. Didn’t even introduce yourself.”

“That’s **your** job. Go ahead, be a decent human being and introduce me to your friend.”

“You’re seriously so annoying. It’s not a joke when I say I can’t stand you.”

“You said you have to leave, yet you’re wasting time talking nonsense. Hi, I’m Byulyi. I apologize for Yongsun’s rudeness.”

“Sirae. Nice to meet you,” the third wheel happily returned the pleasantries, but judging by the way Sirae’s eyes bounced back and forth between Moonbyul and Yongsun, the graduate student knew a host of questions would be waiting for her later that night.

“Remember I told you I was a team manager my last year in college? Sirae was on that team.”

“Ohhh. That’s cool.”

The urgency to leave long forgotten Sirae fell into a comfortable conversation with Moonbyul about basketball—her past glory days playing in college, her continued casual interest in the sport, her surprise at how good Moonbyul was at it. It was cute how chill they both were even though Byulyi had almost singlehandedly destroyed SKKU over an hour ago. Catching sight of Seungyeon approaching, Yongsun expected the amicable mood to continue.

“Hey. Are you all ready to go?” The question was directed at Yongsun and Seungyeon’s eyes were on the arm that was **still** nonchalantly resting around her neck.

“Sirae was just asking the same thing.” Yongsun tried her best to act cool, but everything felt off. There was judgment in Seungyeon’s eyes. She couldn’t handle it, but she also couldn’t wriggle out of Byul’s grasp because the younger woman tightened her hold, as if purposely preventing her from escaping.

“Okay.” Clipped and cold.

“Before I forget,” Yongsun nervously started, “Seungyeon, this is Byuly-”

“Moonbyul,” the senior cut her off. Caught off guard by the frostiness, Yongsun looked up to see the athlete leveling a hard stare at Seungyeon.

“Seungyeon. Nice to meet you.”

“I guess.”

What the hell?

Clearing her throat, Sirae tried to make things less awkward. “Byulyi and I were having a really good conversation, especially about what a great game she had today.”

“It was okay. If we actually played defense, things would’ve been different. Our help defense was off and our one-to-one marking was lazy. But yeah, you had a good game,” Seungyeon shrugged indifferently.

“They’re a good team but I doubt them playing defense differently would have changed anything,” Moonbyul answered, eyes not wavering.

“I guess we’ll never know for sure, huh?”

“We play them later this season. Pretty sure it’ll be the same result. Feel free to come watch.”

“What’s done is done,” Sirae jumped in. “Yeonie, I’ll get Wheein, Hyejin, and Heeyeon. Why don’t you catch up with Chorong and the others? Byulyi, are you joining us?” Seungyeon didn’t wait to hear the answer. She turned and left right away.

“Thanks for the invite, but no. I’m having dinner with my parents.”

“That’s sweet. I hope you enjoy the time with them. Yongsun, meet us outside when you’re ready, okay? It was nice meeting you, Byulyi.”

“Nice meeting you, too.”

Yongsun couldn’t even pretend to understand what just happened.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Your nasty behavior just now.”

“Nasty? Don’t you think that’s excessive?”

“I don’t. That was very uncharacteristic of you.”

“If you say so.”

She wasn’t going to get anywhere with Byulyi being purposely obtuse like this.

“Your parents are heading over. I’ll get going.”

Grabbing hold of her arm at the last moment, Moonbyul pulled her close. “No goodbye hug?” She pouted. She fucking pouted. There was no logical reason for such a childish action to affect Yongsun as much it did.

Against her better judgment, Yomgsun gave Byul the hug she so adamantly wanted.

“Have fun with the group tonight and be safe. Message me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“I said okay,” Yongsun rolled her eyes before bidding the athlete’s parents goodbye and leaving in search of her friends.

She was in her head for most of her walk. The behavior from both Byulyi and Seungyeon was inexplicable. The animosity between them was surprising given how sure she was that the two would get along. They had a lot in common and were both very easygoing people—it didn’t make sense to her.

As she was exiting the arena, her pocket vibrated. Fishing her phone out, a message from Chorong was waiting for her.

**From: Rongie**

We’re right outside the building. _10:19 pm_

**To: Rongie**

Coming now. _10:19 pm_

**From: Rongie**

Cool. Heard from Sirae there was drama 👀 _10:19 pm_

**To: Rongie**

Idk about drama, but it was weird, yeah. _10:20 pm_

**From: Rongie**

What’d you expect?

Two people that like you meeting up, ofc it was weird. _10:20 pm_

Yongsun read that last message just as she caught up to the group so there was no time to respond via text, and too many ears around to answer Chorong in-person, so she tabled it for later and mentally added her roommate to the growing list of people in her life she needed to have a serious sit-down with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I get to the notes section, I forget everything I planned to say. 
> 
> Not sure how and where people are finding this story, but to all new readers, welcome and thank you for giving this long ass story a chance! Updates were supposed to be every weekend, but that has now morphed into every Monday. You’re joining at a great time because I think we’re coming up on some of my favorite chapters? It may change, but according to the map for this story, some of my favorite moments are coming up in later chapters. I hope that many of you will enjoy them, too! 


	34. Rapid Progression

“Sorry, but no. I **cannot** allow you to talk about her like that. She’s not a scrub.”

“You can’t be serious,” Byulyi shook her head in disbelief.

“What?! I get it, you don’t like her because she likes Yongsun-unnie, but let’s at least be accurate, Byul. She wasn’t a scrub. At all. Far from it.”

“You spend one night out with her and now you’re defending her?”

“I’m not defending her, but I played against her for two years before you got to SNU. She was **really** good at basketball. Averaged a double-double one of those seasons. Seemed like a great captain, too.”

“Then go live with her.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” the business school student laughed. Leaving the couch for a few moments to grab something from the kitchen, Byul had time to process her thoughts on their conversation. They’d discussed a lot, and while her head was still spinning, the biggest conclusion she’d come to was that Heeyeon was a traitor.

Her roommate stayed out fraternizing with the enemy the night before then decided that pestering Byul with questions about, as people had dubbed it, “the incident” was the best way to start their day. After each having a long Saturday night, both young women had slept in and were now having brunch together in their living room.

From what Heeyeon shared, many in the group that went out drinking together clamored for details on what happened between her and Seungyeon for the older of the two to have been so uncharacteristically sour.

“You’re not low, by the way,” her roommate nudged her leg off of their living room table. “After the stunt you pulled last night, everyone knows you like unnie.”

“The stunt **I** pulled? You can’t be serious,” the senior guffawed as she stuffed her mouth with food. “I’m not sure what you were told, but she bulldozed her way into the conversation and was unnecessarily rude, then she implied that I only had a good game because SKKU played lackluster defense. It was laughable,” she laughed humorlessly. Talking about this was getting her riled up again, her legs, unbeknownst to her, bouncing up and down of their own accord.

Dinner with her parents the night before was lovely, but throughout, her mind wandered periodically to the meeting with Seungyeon. Returning home that night, rest didn’t come easy. Moonbyul paced around her bedroom before lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and attempting to process that woman’s audacity. Who the hell did Seungyeon think she was?

Sipping her juice, Heeyeon was unaffected by her friend’s increasing frustration. “That’s not what Sirae said. According to her, you were all over Yongsun-unnie—she asked me at one point if the two of you had something going on—but then got an attitude when Seungyeon came over. She also admitted that Seungyeon added fuel to things, too. A fair narrator in my opinion.”

“I don’t care. The whole thing was annoying.”

At some point, the television had been turned on. Feeling Heeyeon’s stare burning into the side of her face, Byulyi suddenly found the rerun playing on the screen to be the most fascinating cinematic masterpiece.

“You don’t care?” Her roommate asked skeptically.

“I don’t, no.”

“So you don’t want to know what happened between Yongsun-unnie and Seungyeon when we all went out?”

“Not interested,” she tried her best to come across as indifferent.

“Okay.” Moonbyul could hear the smile in Heeyeon’s voice. There was the likelihood that her roommate was goading her. But there was also a chance that she wasn’t, that she was telling the truth, and that something of significance occurred. If that were the case, it’d be best for her to know, right? Like, it could serve as some type of strategic advantage. Right?

As each second passed, her resolve crumbled. Yongsun hadn’t yet responded to her ‘good morning’ text message—Byulyi had never stopped sending those as they were habit by now; Yongsun was always among her first thoughts of the morning—so she was at Heeyeon’s mercy in terms of finding out if anything happened.

“What happened,” the basketball star finally asked through gritted teeth.

“Thought you didn’t care?”

“Just tell me, Heeyeon. You love dragging things out,” she rolled her eyes.

“You’re no fun. Fine. We all went out, which you already know. The two of them didn’t talk much on the way there and for the first half of our time at the bar we ended up at, they mingled with everyone except each other. It looked like Seungyeon was avoiding Yongsun-unnie, not the other way around.”

“She’s so dramatic. There’s no reason that Yong and I being close should have bothered her that much.”

“If you’d let me finish, I could address that.”

“Go ahead.”

“So . . . yeah. During their time apart, Sirae came up and asked me about **you** and Yongsun-unnie, so I asked her about **Seungyeon** and unnie. They “hang out” a lot. Sirae doesn’t know what exactly that means because apparently Seungyeon doesn’t divulge that information, which, listen, you’re not a fan or whatever, but that’s sweet of her. Anyway, they’re not together but they’re also not seeing other people, which, I guess, is why she reacted so strongly to seeing the two of you together. As Sirae said, the whole night, including the way unnie bragged about you, made them think she was hiding a relationship with you.”

That was . . . a lot to take in.

The announcement of the “hanging out” stuck with her. Byulyi had an idea of what that meant but wasn’t sure. During one of the Midnight Madness parties, Hyejin told her that the two were “hooking up,” but that, too, was vague. However, judging by how strongly Seungyeon reacted, and the way she’d marked Yongsun the week before, **something** of significance was going on between the two. Before asking Heeyeon, she was suddenly reminded about a small detail just mentioned.

“Did you say she was bragging about me?” It couldn’t be helped. Her lips formed a smirk.

“I want to be disgusted by your reaction, but it’s honestly a valid response. She was bragging **so** hard. Everything aside, she’s very proud of you and your accomplishments. It’s adorable. But that’s not the point! Unnie approached Seungyeon later in the night and they had what looked to be an intense conversation. After that, they were inseparable. They left together, too. And before you get upset, yeah, they left together, but remember all the good information I shared that can be used in your favor.”

“Not remembering much good at the moment.”

“Whatever physical things are happening between them, I know for a fact that unnie cares about you deeply. Byul, she didn’t hesitate to hype you up, even in the presence of someone she’s messing around with. I think that’s a good sign.”

“But the fact that she’s even messing around with someone is **not** a good sign.”

“Stop focusing on the negative,” Heeyeon waved her hand dismissively. “She’s hooking up with a woman, so now you know that that’s something she’s open to. All that’s left is for you to step up and grab her attention. So that **you** become the woman she’s hooking up with.”

“I don’t want to hook up with her.” The look on Heeyeon’s face made the athlete explain further. “I want to be with her. Properly. Not just hooking up every now and then. I want to do right by her. A relationship.”

Moonbyul had had nothing but time to think about this—it had been 10 months now since first realizing what the tummy flips and spikes in heartbeat meant. The decision to be more direct about showing her feelings for Yongsun didn’t only come from said feelings eating at her from the inside out, swallowing her whole, and consuming every other thought of hers. No. It came, too, from knowing for certain that she and Yongsun could be good together. The connection between them was unlike any other she’d experienced. There were things that both needed to be better at, and they sometimes clashed, but more often than not, they clicked. Byulyi wanted to hold onto that ‘click’, that connection they had. The standoff with Seungyeon and her restless night the day before cemented it for her—she was willing to risk their friendship if it meant tapping into the potential they had as more. Going about accomplishing this would be tricky though. She still had no plans of confessing outright—**no one** knew if Yongsun liked her. To get around that, Byulyi planned on stepping her game up even more and feeling out the reactions she got from Yongsun. Waiting a little longer wouldn’t hurt her, she’d already waited aimlessly for 10 months. For now, the athlete planned on taking her time and doing things right.

“Aww!” Heeyeon cooed. “Our baby Byulyi is growing up!”

“Shut up,” the senior blushed.

“I think it’s about time. It makes no sense to hold onto those feelings and have them make you sad all the time. Address them and deal with the fallout after. The two of you are great friends. If a relationship doesn’t work, you may still be able to ma–”

“It’ll work. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Yes! That’s the spirit! I’ll message ‘Team Byulyi’ and tell them about the news!”

“‘Team Byulyi’?”

“Yeah. Me, Wheein, and Hyejin. The lovey-dovey shit between the two of you that leads nowhere? We’re sick of it, but we’re also rooting for you to do something about it.”

Knowing that her best friends believed in her, confidence was pumping furiously through her body.

“So you all think she likes me?” The senior asked excitedly.

“We have no idea,” Heeyeon laughed, “but we think it would be cute!”

Cute. She was talking about possibly ruining one of the most important relationships in her life and they were encouraging her because they thought it was “cute”. Annoying.

*

Inputting the apartment’s code, Moonbyul felt welcomed by the familiar beeps. The apartment wasn’t hers, but it was a close second. Walking through the door, Byul took her time heading to the bedroom. She could breathe easy. Chorong wasn’t home—she’d know because she made Heeyeon text Yongsun’s roommate to ask.

The day after a game was always the worst. Hard screens set the day before always lingered days after the final buzzer went off. “Accidental” hits to the body and face always left bruises that felt like they formed on her bones themselves. Bruises that hindered her walking. On the contrary, though, days with Yongsun were always the best. With no plans, Byulyi figured the best recovery would be making a pop-up appearance and inserting herself into whatever plans Yongsun had.

Coming to the end of the hall, the brunette gently eased the bedroom’s door open and peeked her head in. A wave of endorphins burst within at the sight before her.

Traversing the few pieces of clothing strewn haphazardly on the floor, Byulyi quietly approached the burrito-wrapped woman on the bed. Breath steady, Yongsun’s body rhythmically rose and fell. Mussed locks falling every which way across her face, Byul could only stand and stare. Yongsun truly was beautiful.

Enough time passed to be creepy, and the athlete reminded herself of what she came for.

“Yong,” she softly shook the sleeping older woman. After no response, she tried again. “Yong. Wake up.” Delighted by the graduate student’s stirring, Moonbyul gave her time to adjust to the light that filtered through the window.

“Byul-ah,” the older woman rasped. It was embarrassing how easily that gravelly voice awoke feelings of desire within her. Closing that off for the moment, Byulyi responded.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” she smiled, stroking Yongsun’s hair.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Heard you had a wild night and wanted to make sure you were okay.” And make sure that you were in your bed and not Seungyeon’s, she thought.

“I’m tired,” Yongsun yawned, both eyes closed once again.

“Me, too. Move over.”

She **was** tired but she also wanted to hold Yongsun again. It had been a while since she was last able to do so. The swiftness with which Yongsun unwrapped herself and scooted over made Byulyi feel good about herself. For whatever reason, the older woman almost always did as Byul asked of her. It was not only cute but also an encouraging sign, the athlete thought.

Jumping onto the bed, Byul adjusted the comforter around them and pulled Yongsun’s back flush against her front, a secure hand holding onto the blonde’s waist. It **felt** intimate and, dare she say, romantic? The senior wasn’t sure, but her heart rate spiked nonetheless. Seconds later, her heart thumped even harder against her chest as she felt soft fingers wrapping around and holding on to her wrist. That small action alone had her smiling goofily . . . until it popped into her head that the increase in skinship was likely a byproduct of Yongsun’s physical intimacy with Seungyeon. It was possible the graduate student had grown more comfortable with it overall and that it wasn’t something unique to her.

Now was not the time to think about Seungyeon. **She**, Moon Byulyi, was the one with Yongsun at the moment. That’s all that mattered.

“I missed you,” Byulyi kissed the back of her best friend’s head.

“We saw each other yesterday,” a husky laugh came.

“Yeah, but we haven’t spent real time together in a bit. I also wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have put you in a sticky situation like that.” She wasn’t going to apologize for her behavior, just for how it affected Yongsun.

“And what about for the nasty behavior towards Seungyeon?”

Through gritted teeth, Moonbyul reluctantly uttered, “I apologize for being rude to your **friend**.” Even though Yongsun couldn’t see her, Byulyi still refrained from rolling her eyes out of respect for her best friend. The apology was bullshit, she wasn’t sorry at all for being rude to Seungyeon, but Yongsun wanted to hear it, and she wasn’t going to put a damper on their day by needlessly fighting over that girl.

“Why don’t you like her?” Yongsun asked softly as she turned in her arms to lie face-to-face.

“Why didn’t you text me last night? I told you to message me when you got home. You didn’t,” the brunette countered.

Eye-to-eye, in each other’s arms, neither broke their gaze away from the other until Yongsun sighed softly and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I hung out with Seungyeon after and by the time I got home, I forgot.”

It seemed that no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, their conversation would inevitably have to deal with the problem that was Seungyeon.

“Are you dating her?” If they were going to talk, they might as well **talk**. Too many of the questions that Byul had could only be answered by Yongsun. There was no way around it.

“No,” the reply came immediately.

“Then what’s happening between the two of you? Because she’s making it obvious that something’s happening.”

“We’re friends,” Yongsun sighed heavily. “But we sometimes kiss and other stuff,” she looked away as she answered.

_Other stuff_.

“Okay.” Her calm response belied the burning jealousy scorching her insides.

Jealousy. At the root of everything, she was now woman enough to admit to herself that she was jealous of whatever it was Seungyeon and Yongsun had. Even if Yongsun did like Moonbyul, Seungyeon would still be in the picture. She’d still be an obstacle that Byulyi would have to contend with.

As if always sensing her distress, the athlete melted into Yongsun’s hands as they cupped her face.

“Byul-ah, I’m tired. Can we not fight, please?”

“I didn’t come here to fight, Yong. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“You’re staying the whole day?”

“Unless you have plans.”

“No plans. I’m going back to sleep, though. Exhausted.” With that, she turned her back to Moonbyul but made sure to pull her close, a return to their original position.

“Sleep. I’ll buy you some food when you wake up and we can watch a movie or something. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yongsun drowsily agreed.

Deciding to sleep, too, the senior settled in—the grip Yongsun had on her arm was intense; she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

At the edge of unconsciousness, she was pulled back when Yongsun suddenly asked, “Did you change your body wash?” Byul thought she had long fallen asleep.

“I did, yeah. Mine ran out so I used Heeyeon’s today. Does it smell bad?”

“No, it smells good, but it doesn’t smell like **you**.”

A moment of silence.

“Yeah. I’m going to the store tomorrow to buy some more of my usual one.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Does your body hurt a lot today?”

“It feels better now,” Byul snuggled closer, a hand resting on Yongsun’s toned stomach.

“Okay,” the older woman whispered.

Maybe it was cheesy, but despite the small amount of tension earlier, the moment was perfect. Holding Yongsun like this was perfect.

“Never forget that you’re my favorite person,” she breathed. It seemed like the moment called for such a declaration.

Initially hurt by the way Yongsun froze at her statement, Byul let out a small sigh of relief when the older woman sank into her hold.

“You’re my favorite person, too, Byul-ah.”

Maybe, just maybe, this was a good sign.

*

Sunday came much too quickly for her liking. She and Yongsun spent the entire day and night together, a lazy day through and through. Now Moonbyul was brought back to reality. Back to dealing with way too many things that seemed way too overwhelming and showed no signs of slowing down.

“The application looked tight. Strong. And you’re the school’s star athlete, I’d say you’re a pretty solid lock.” Sandeul admitted as he sipped his coffee.

He agreed to meet with Byulyi today to give feedback on her business school application. Over the past few weeks, they’d been emailing back and forth about it and selected today, November 15th, as the final deadline for revisions. Applications for early decisions were open. To his knowledge, she’d be submitting any day now.

Ever since Heeyeon introduced them, Byul and Sandeul kept consistent communication. It was mostly out of necessity as he provided support with her business school application. Throughout the process, though, a friendship between them developed. He was kind and always willing to listen to her non‑academic troubles, even though she never took him up on that offer. Until today.

“So . . .” she drawled, “slight change of plans.”

“And by slight, you mean a massive change in plans. Correct?”

“Possibly.”

“Do tell.”

And so she launched into the full story: it was looking more and more each day as if she’d be going pro. The week before, Moonbyul let her coaches know that she’d be interested in taking a meeting with an agent. Days later, the informational happened and she learned that there was a lot of money on the table. Prospects bolstered by her performance over the summer and in SNU’s first game of the season, the basketball star had offers ranging from 100,000 USD to 330,000 USD. It was bizarre having reached this point. Her life up until now revolved around basketball. That had always been her priority, and it led her here, to unreal amounts of money being thrown at her.

“They’re offering you **how much**?!” Sandeul choked on his drink.

“100,000 to 330,000 USD,” she answered the rhetorical question.

“Byul . . .”

“I know.”

“Damn,” he whistled.

“Yeah.”

“But if they’re sending you somewhere miserable, the money isn’t as impressive.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“You sure? I say dumb things all the time.”

“Exactly. But no, the options aren’t horrible. Right now, there are teams from lots of places. Turkey, Russia, Spain, China, Australia.”

“Korea?”

“Yeah, Korea, too.”

“Damn,” he whistled again.

“Yeah,” she responded, just as awe-stricken.

“So . . . business school?” He laughed.

“I still want to go. Kind of had it set in my head that that’d be the next step. It sounds silly, but I imagined what the future would look like if I were in b‑school. Everything, right down to what classes I’d have each day, what I’d wear, the commute. Everything.” Ending long, stressful days with Yongsun.

“Take the money and run. Most people go to business school to have a path that leads to that much money. You can sign your name today and have that.”

“It’s not about the money. I’m actually interested in business. I feel like I could do well. Especially in marketing. Imagine me in athletic marketing! I’d kill it.”

“You can sign a deal with Nike or Adidas tomorrow and have a clear path to athletic marketing,” he poked yet another hole in her thoughts.

“I know.” While humble, the meeting she had with the sports agent made a lot clear to her—she was in high demand. “But I want to earn it.”

“You’ve earned it through basketball.”

“I want to earn it through school, too. It’s silly, but I kind of want to prove to myself I can do it.”

“You’re right, it’s silly.”

His words weren’t scalding. He wasn’t being rude.

“Then what now?”

“Probably still going to put an application through but apply for online programs instead.”

“Part-time?”

“Obviously. I couldn’t take four classes each term while playing.”

“So, you’ve decided to go pro?”

“I’ve decided to entertain the idea.”

“What have your parents said?”

“To go pro. Especially my mom,” Byulyi laughed.

“Didn’t you say she’s the one that’s always about academics?”

“Exactly.”

They spent a minute enjoying the irony in that.

“Which of the leagues offering would you most want to play in?”

“It depends on the quality of the team offering me a contract.”

“You’d want a good team, right? Get paid big **and** win.”

“I don’t know, the idea of playing for a team that’s rebuilding is alluring. It would be a great challenge.”

“You and these challenges,” Sandeul rolled his eyes. “Business school, teams that are rebuilding, Yongsun-noona. Try the easy road once in a while.”

Entertained by the fists raining down on his shoulder, Sandeul burst into hysterics. Once he calmed down, the two resumed their bickering over whether it’d be best to play for a great team but be a supporting character or be the star on a losing team.

*

The following few weeks progressed with no new drama. From everything she’d observed, Byul felt that things with Yongsun were progressing **very** well. Their Tuesday lunches became routine. Without fail, the athlete appeared at The Center every week to deliver the packaged lunches she procured. They spoke freely with each other, laughed without restraint, and, most excitingly, their actions seemed to be backed by strong feelings. Byulyi knew hers obviously were, but each day, Yongsun’s words and actions made her more certain that there was **something** on the graduate student’s end too.

Basketball was also promising. SNU started their season undefeated and their team’s chemistry was the best Byul had ever experienced during her time at the university. Looking at basketball post-college, the decision was 75 percent made—Byul was going to go pro. Nothing had been signed yet, but the professional basketball talks were heading towards acquiring and examining proposed contracts, with the strongest offers coming from Korea, Turkey, and China. She’d either be relatively close to home or several hours away. And although things were rapidly progressing, that uncertainty shook her up a bit. So much depended on **where** she’d be playing.

Maybe too much time had passed with too much good. With no disturbances. With no bad news. Byulyi should have realized that she was due.

It was a regular day. Practice was normal. They were two days out from their sixth game of the season, the team in the middle of a defensive drill. The objective: stop the other team from scoring **and** secure the rebound. The winning team would have their shuttle runs cancelled. Not the biggest prize, but the team was competitive. They didn’t play for the prizes offered by coaches, they played for the pride of winning.

It was tense. Panting and drenched in sweat, all players wore their exhaustion on their sleeves.

“It’s tied. 4-4. This is the last series. If no one gets the point here, everyone runs,” Coach Ok coolly informed her athletes. “Red, your possession. Ball’s in.”

Looking back on things, Byulyi could only blame herself. Her team moved the ball well, but the blue team’s defense was stifling. Every move red made, a defender from the blue team was a step ahead.

“Two seconds on the shot clock,” one of her teammates yelled out to her.

Heaving a 3-point shot up, the rubber ball looped around the rim before spitting back out. Everyone looked for the nearest opponent to box out or one‑up while simultaneously tracking the trajectory of the ball.

The thing is, the rule is **always** “long shot, long rebound”. Always.

In her haste, the senior forgot. Momentarily surprised by the ball careening past her out on the perimeter, Byulyi made to chase after it but was left even more surprised as a teammate on the other team dove for the ball. She ended up getting it, but that was an afterthought as Byul’s piercing scream sent chills through everyone in the gym.

Writhing in pain, the senior clutched desperately at her right ankle as she did her best not to cry. While her teammate got the basketball, the girl also slid into Byul’s planted foot, twisting it harshly amidst the commotion. The pain was excruciating, something akin to the shock of a jolt of electricity, but it was all concentrated in her ankle.

Yujin, the team trainer, rushed out to the court and poked and prodded, asking questions about where and how much it hurt. The rest of the team was ushered away, probably being given a speech about the importance of finishing practice strong and keeping their heads about them. Byulyi couldn’t focus on any of it. Her attention was split between on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, and lamenting all the progress that had been made over the past month.

Maybe all progression had to come to a stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Was supposed to say that last update but I forgot because time has blended together and even though I knew the new year was coming, I didn’t know that the new year was coming.
> 
> Last chapter, you all went off in the comments section. It was a beautiful thing. Not sure if I gave enough material this time around to inspire the same level of commenting, but we’ll see. If I remember the other things I wanted to add in this note, I’ll add it later.
> 
> ETA: very important—Seungyeon is not CLC's Seungyeon. Seungyeon was intended to be an OC whose physical appearance is that of Nana from After School. A lot of people were asking so I wanted to clear that up.


	35. [M?] Of Course

“Honey, I’m home!”

Ugh. Not today. Not **right now**.

Groaning at the voice that echoed through the hall and into her bedroom, Yongsun rolled onto her stomach, lifting the covers over her head as she did so. Just in time, it seemed. Moments later, the voice was right next to her ear.

“**I said**, ‘Honey, I’m home!’”

“Go away, Chorong,” the blonde mumbled into her pillow as she felt a presence at her bed’s side.

“Someone’s tired. Did lovergirl wear you out? She was here, wasn’t she?”

“You could’ve stayed out today, too. I wouldn’t have minded at all.”

Her roommate chuckled softly. “Yeah, I’m sure you would’ve loved that. Spending yet another day with your girl. Would’ve been heaven for you.”

“She’s my **friend!**” Yongsun exclaimed, pulling the comforter down. For the first time that day, she and Chorong were face to face.

“I’m sure she is,” her brown-haired friend rolled her eyes. “Anyway, Insoo bought us breakfast. It’s in the kitchen. Go wash up, I’ll be waiting for you out there.” With a couple gentle pats on Yongsun’s legs, Chorong stood and departed.

As her bedroom door was closed, the blonde thrashed her legs some. She was **tired**. She needed to **sleep**. That had been the plan the day before, but Moonbyul came over unexpectedly. Yongsun couldn’t be upset about it. She greatly enjoyed being wrapped up in her best friend’s strong arms and, well, that’s exactly what happened during their time together. They napped, they ate food that Byulyi bought, they watched movies, they talked, they laughed, and then they slept again. Through it all, whether they were on her bed or the living room couch, the athlete held her close, sending Yongsun into an internal fit of hysterics. Moonbyul **knew** what she was doing. Yongsun was convinced that she absolutely had to.

Sighing deeply, the graduate student sat up. Chorong was going to grill her about Friday evening. Despite having known that it was coming, she wasn’t yet ready for the conversation. Things with Seungyeon were just . . . confusing. Their relationship was supposed to be simple, however it was becoming anything but, and Yongsun hadn’t given herself enough time to process the situation on her own, let alone processing things **with** Chorong. Throwing Moonbyul into the conversation—which she knew that her roommate would do—it was going to be a mess.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, the blonde threw on the first sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants that she could get her hands on and trudged down the hall to the kitchen.

“There you are. Thought I’d have to come drag you out myself.”

“I only came for the food. I’m hungry.”

“Lovergirl didn’t feed you yesterday?”

Rummaging through the bags on the kitchen counter, Yongsun rolled her eyes. “Can you please stop calling her that? It’s annoying.”

“What am I supposed to call her?” Chorong feigned innocence as she sat on the couch shrugging. “It’d be a farce if I called her your ‘friend’.”

“How? That’s exactly what she is.”

“Yongsun. Please. The two of you are always cuddling, she’s always holding your bag when she picks you up, you’re always gushing about her. Look," she pointed at Yongsun’s clothes, “you’re even wearing her sweatshirt! It’s gross. Some would call it dis-gush-ting. Get it? ‘Dis-gush-ting’ instead of ‘disgusting’ because you’re always gushing about her?” Pausing momentarily in the hopes that her play on words would be appreciated, the brunette laughed a bit before continuing. “Even with my door closed, I can **hear** the two of you giggling throughout the night when she stays over. There’s obviously more than friendship going on there.”

“We’re best friends.”

“No, you and I are best friends. You and Wheein and Hyejin are best friends. You and your precious Moon Byulyi are not that. She’s always flirting with you and–”

“Chorong,” Yongsun raised a palm, “just drop it, okay?”

“She likes you, Yongsun! Open your eyes.”

Settling onto the couch, Yongsun balanced her plate on her knees and switched their television on. Judging by the cackle that suddenly filled the room, Chorong found this reaction to be the most amusing thing ever.

“So you’re just going to ignore me?” The joy in her voice was obvious. Yongsun didn’t answer. Waving her hands in front of the blonde’s face, Chorong persisted. “If you’re going to pretend to be into something on tv, make sure it’s not the **one** show that you absolutely hate,” she laughed harder.

“Seriously,” Yongsun grew agitated, “what is your deal?”

“My deal is that you’re playing dumb. Can you admit that Seungyeon likes you?”

“I can.” The taller girl had admitted to it on Friday. Even before doing so, though, Yongsun figured as much. Still, hearing the words leave Seungyeon’s mouth was still a surprise.

_The group outing had an off energy to it at first. Seungyeon was definitely avoiding her. Yongsun suspected it as they all traveled to the bar, but upon arriving, it became obvious. Seungyeon spoke extensively to everyone except her. If it weren’t so immature and disappointing, Yongsun would have laughed at how much it reminded her of Byulyi. Every day, it seemed, the graduate student noticed another similarity between the two. Which was why she was still surprised at how tense the interaction earlier that night between the two of them got. She truly believed they would have gotten along. They had so much in common!_

_This one commonality, though, was grating on her nerves. Thinking over the entire night, nothing glaring stood out. Yes, Moonbyul was uncharacteristically cold, but she didn’t think that was enough to warrant the way Seungyeon was currently avoiding her completely._

_“Unnie, are you and Seungyeon-unnie fighting?” Wheein suddenly approached her. Or maybe it wasn’t so sudden, Yongsun thought. Maybe she had been so in her head about everything that she didn’t notice the third-year until she spoke._

_“You’ve noticed it, too, huh? I don’t know, Wheein-ah,” she sighed, “it feels like it, but there isn’t really a reason for us to be fighting.”_

_“I heard through the grapevine that she’s upset about Byul-unnie?”_

_“Through what grapevine?” Yongsun cried out in distress. “Why are you all even talking about it?”_

_“Because she’s making it obvious. What happened?”_

_“Nothing. I mean, admittedly, Byulyi was acting childish. I introduced her as ‘Byulyi’ and she cut me off and introduced **herself** as ‘Moonbyul’. Can you believe that?”_

_“Oh gosh. Of course she did,” Wheein grimaced. She didn’t sound as surprised as Yongsun had expected._

_“What do you mean by that?”_

_“Nothing, unnie,” the younger suspiciously replied. “Have you tried talking to Seungyeon-unnie? She hasn’t come near you, but she’s been sneaking glances all night. I think she wants to talk to you but doesn’t know how.”_

_“Which is weird! She always says what’s on her mind. I don’t get what’s stopping her this time. Honestly, Wheein-ah, the whole night has been weird. I’m tired. Part of me just wants to go home and sleep.”_

_“You always sleep when you’re overwhelmed,” Wheein observed._

_“I guess I do,” Yongsun sighed._

_“Go talk to Seungyeon-unnie and then go home and sleep. Sounds like a solid plan.”_

_“I suppose.”_

_“Do you maybe want to . . .” she hedged._

_“Do I maybe want to what?”_

_“Buy me and Hyejin a drink each since I helped you solve your dilemma?” Of course she’d finagle something out of this. Yongsun good-naturedly shook her head as she laughed heartily at her younger friend’s antics._

_“Why would I buy **Hyejin** a drink for something that only **you** helped with?” Yongsun was going to buy them the drinks anyway, but she was curious about the reasoning that Wheein believed foolproof enough to utter out loud._

_“Well, we can both agree that I deserve a drink. I mean, duh, right? **But**, if you only get **me** a drink, Hyejin will think **I’m** your favorite, and will start to feel bad about it. Then she’ll start questioning all her interactions with you and will possibly start distancing herself from you. If she does that, I don’t even have to explain how our friend group will crumble—you can put two and two together. Now, I know you, unnie. I **know** you don’t want our friend group to crumble. I also know that you don’t have favorites. You love me and her equally, right?”_

_Entertaining Wheein’s active imagination, Yongsun nodded. “That’s correct,” she smiled softly._

_“Exactly! You’re a good unnie and you wouldn’t pick one over the other. That’s why you must buy each of us a drink. To maintain that equality.”_

_“How many drinks have you had tonight, Wheein-ah?” The Fine Arts student had an active mind, but this was beyond her normal levels of imagination._

_“Like . . . five?”_

_“We’ve only been here for an hour and a half!”_

_“Okay, true. This will be my last one for the rest of the night.”_

_“That’s a lie,” Yongsun playfully groaned._

_“Okay! Okay. It’ll be my last one for the next thirty minutes. I’ll savor it.”_

_“I’ll probably be leaving within the next thirty minutes. You and Hyejin will be leaving with me.”_

_Even Wheein’s subsequent whines were adorable. She was so **cute**. “Unnie! I don’t want to leave so early,” she stomped her right foot._

_“I’m not leaving you out drunk and, of course, to make sure I don’t show favoritism, I have to take Hyejin home, too. That’s how it works, remember?”_

_More whining resulted but came to a quick end when Wheein found Eric nearby. Pulling him over, she wasted no time seeking help. “Oppa, tell unnie that I shouldn’t have to leave before I’m ready to do so.”_

_“Uh . . . she shouldn’t have to leave before she’s ready to do so?”_

_“She’s drunk. I’m taking her with me when I leave.”_

_“I mean, I can take her and Hyejin home,” Eric shrugged._

_“How many drinks have you had?”_

_“One,” he immediately replied._

_Spotting Seungyeon making her way through the crowd to head to the restroom, Yongsun hastily sewed things up with Wheein and Eric. “Fine. You can take them home.” With that, she left Wheein celebrating to follow down the hall Seungyeon had disappeared into._

_The hall was poorly lit, but empty. Once she grabbed Seungyeon’s attention, they’d be able to have a fairly private conversation. Leaning against the wall outside the restroom, Yongsun tried to piece together what she’d say. _

_Nothing came to her. _

_The whole situation was weird and unnecessarily complicated. The two of them were supposed to be having **fun**. Mid-sigh, the door swung open and she was suddenly face-to-face—well, face-to-chest—with the woman she’d been stressing over the past few hours._

_“Hey,” Yongsun eked out._

_“Hey,” Seungyeon matched her tone._

_“Uh . . . haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you much tonight.” Throat suddenly dry, the graduate student coughed lightly in an attempt to clear it out._

_Releasing a deep sigh and rubbing the back of her neck, the taller woman answered, “I mean, it would be difficult to talk to me seeing as I’ve kind of been avoiding you since we got here.”_

_“You admit it?”_

_“Yeah . . . it was stupid.” Despite the low-lighting, Yongsun could make out the way Seungyeon roughly scrubbed her face. “I was frustrated, then realized I couldn’t really be frustrated with you because you didn’t do anything wrong, but that didn’t change the fact that I was frustrated. I also didn’t want to talk about it, so I avoided you altogether. I don’t know Yongsun. It was shitty. There’s not much else to say.”_

_Deciding to follow the flow of things, Yongsun chose to be brave and address the issue at hand._

_“Why were you frustrated?”_

_“Not past tense. I’m still frustrated.”_

_“Okay. Why **are** you frustrated?”_

_“Because the more honest I am with myself, the more I have to deal with the fact that I like you, that there’s no space for those feelings in our current arrangement, and that I can’t ask you to make space for those feelings because you’ve said it time and time again that you don’t want anything more. That’s frustrating. Because I knew going into this what it was and, in the end, I still got caught up.”_

_What was she supposed to say to that?_

_Seungyeon took her lack of response as a response. “Yeah . . .”_

_“I’m sorry,” Yongsun hesitantly and softly offered. **What was she supposed to say?**_

_“And that’s the thing. It makes me feel shittier to hear you apologize because you did nothing wrong. You told me from the beginning,” she sighed._

_“I don’t like seeing you like this,” she caressed the other woman’s face. It was the truth. She cared about Seungyeon and she liked Seungyeon. Racking her brain, Yongsun wondered if this was the first time she admitted it to herself. The realization should have come sooner; she wouldn’t be doing what she was doing with her if she didn’t have **some** type of feelings for her. Some people could do all of that without feelings beyond lust, but Yongsun was too terrified of vulnerability to be this open with just anyone._

_She wasn’t sure when it happened but questioning how and when the change occurred would be a waste of time. All that mattered was that it happened. She liked Seungyeon, and she’d have to own that. Part of liking Seungyeon meant not wanting to see the taller woman hurt, not wanting to be the reason she was hurt._

_No matter how much she liked Seungyeon, though, Yongsun **could not** put someone else’s wants and wishes above her own. Not right now, at least. She still didn’t want a relationship. _

_“Yeah, well . . . I don’t like feeling like this,” Seungyeon placed her hand over Yongsun’s and laughed humorlessly._

_“We can stop, you know? If that’s what you need. We don’t have to keep doing this. I feel like it may make things more difficult for you.” Truthfully, Yongsun liked what it was they had before all the feelings. She wanted to keep **that** if she could but would give it up if that’s what was best for Seungyeon._

_“That’s the thing, I don’t want to stop. It’s this vicious cycle of being in it and getting dangerously close to wanting more even though I know that’s unrealistic, but not wanting to stop. I like when we’re together like that. I like being close to you in that way. Being close to you like this,” Seungyeon slowly leaned in and captured Yongsun’s lips between her own._

_“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Yongsun said just above a whisper as she pulled away._

_“Yeah. Maybe I’ll take a little bit of time to think things over? How about that? Would that be okay with you?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Okay. It’s settled.”_

_“It’s settled,” Yongsun tried smiling reassuringly. “Does that mean no talking while you’re thinking?”_

_“Obviously we can still talk. No matter what, we’re friends, right?”_

_“We are.”_

_“Friends talk. So, yeah, we can talk.”_

_And for the rest of the night, they did. There was a bit of more-than-friendly touching, and they did end up leaving together and doing a bit of more-than-friendly kissing, but they were adjusting. It was understandable._

“You can admit that Seungyeon likes you, but you can’t admit that Moonbyul does, too? It’s literally the same thing.”

“Seungyeon **told** me that she likes me.”

“And Moonbyul has done everything **but** tell you flat out. She was picking you up from your classes after only a few months of knowing you. You’re really going to tell me that that’s just friend behavior?” Thinking about behavior from that far back made Yongsun’s head spin.

“Why are you pushing this? What does it matter?”

“Those are good questions,” Chorong stopped to purse her lips. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just want you to admit it. It’s annoying to watch,” she shrugged.

“At least you’re honest.”

“Always. Let’s see if you’ll do the same. Do you like her?”

“Who?”

“Moonbyul.”

Not wanting to lie, but also not wanting to get into **that **conversation right now, Yongsun stayed quiet as she filled her mouth with food, taking her time to clear the plate in her lap.

“Tell Insoo the food was delicious,” Yongsun suddenly changed the topic. Chorong allowed it.

“I’ll text and tell him.”

Insoo was one of the guys Changsub played recreational basketball every week with at a community center in his neighborhood. To be clear, Changsub was horrible at basketball. Horrible at all sports. He had no athletic ability. None. Zero. The lack of athletic ability was why Chorong went to watch him play. She wanted to heckle. It was apparently their friendship love language. That was how she first met Insoo who, unlike Changsub, was **great** at basketball and very athletic. He was also very handsome. In true Chorong fashion, she immediately told Changsub about her crush and he immediately told her to can it—he didn’t want to have to deal with romance drama at his pick-up games. Actually, his exact words were, “_Pick-up is for playing **basketball**, not for you playing matchmaker.”_

Of course, she didn’t listen and frequented more of his games, even squeezing herself into the occasional professional basketball watch parties some of the pick-up team members held. It was fuzzy what was going on between the two at one point. Chorong would spend nights not home and Yongsun didn’t want to pry, so she never asked for specifics, only ever asked if Chorong was safe. Recently, the brunette shared more openly that she was spending time with Insoo and that they were getting close.

“So you two are dating now? You’re spending nights at his place and he’s buying you and your roommate breakfast.” Finally, it was her turn to harass Chorong with questions about her love life.

“Yeah, we fucked last night.”

“What is wrong with you?!” Yongsun choked on her spit.

“What? Am I supposed to lie? We had sex. It was great! Honestly, I didn’t think it would be—you’ve met him once, he’s very sweet and gentle. Not in a bad way, but not in a way that would make me think he could do everything he did last night. Whew. I was pleasantly surprised. There was one part where he was eating me ou–”

“Okay, thank you. I get it,” Yongsun stood to place her plate in the sink. “He’s lucky. Whenever he’s tired of listening to you talk, he can stuff your mouth.”

“Ha ha, joke’s on you. I love my mouth being stuffed!”

“If I had known when we first met that the quiet girl I was befriending would end up being this,” Yongsun gestured at Chorong but was interrupted.

“You would’ve still befriended me. Shut up,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah . . . probably. I was desperate.”

Seeing Chorong wind up a throw pillow, Yongsun sprinted to her room before getting hit.

*

Things were looking up. Probably because Yongsun finally took matters into her own hands.

After promising over a month ago to chat him up, Yongsun met with Director Choi. As expected, he was friendly and honest in sharing the journey to his current position. To her surprise, there were many twists and turns, not nearly as linear as she assumed it would have been. That served as more inspiration for her though. Big picture, Yongsun didn’t know what she wanted. She only knew what she enjoyed doing. The conversation she had with Byul came to mind.

“_I **love** working at The Center. It’s not even about me feeling accomplished, it’s about the students I work with feeling proud of themselves when they meet the academic goals they set for themselves, especially the ones that never realized they learn differently.”_

To this day, the feelings remained the same. While being and Academic Advisor might not be her life’s purpose, Yongsun chimed in when asked what careers she was interested in and shared the parts of her current work-study job that left her feeling most fulfilled.

Making clear that he couldn’t offer her a job on the spot—employment at The Center was more complicated behind the scenes than it might seem, he said—Director Choi commended Yongsun’s work with the athletes assigned to her and thanked her for the fresh and positive energy she brought into the space.

“_I cannot promise you anything. That would be me getting your hopes up without the certainty of being able to deliver on said promise. However, you are an asset. Many of your ideas around being more inclusive of students with different learning styles are invaluable, and that’s the type of thinking we need to better serve the students we work with. If you send me an updated résumé, I can share it with people in my network and see where that leads. In the immediate future, though, I want to make an adjustment for next semester. Unsure of who, but I want to pair you up with a veteran Academic Advisor, someone you can shadow. You’d be able to learn a lot, especially about the parts of the position that aren’t student facing. I’ll have to think about it in more detail, but you and I can meet again next week. Think about what you’d want to get out of that opportunity and we can talk it through so that you’re growing in the ways you’d like to grow. How does that sound?”_

_“It sounds perfect! Thank you,” Yongsun bowed profusely._

_“No need to thank me.”_

Just like that. Things were looking up! A weight that she **knew** she had been carrying on her shoulders was lifted slightly. There was **something** to work with. Buzzing with relief and hope, she had to tell someone. Anyone.

**To: Byul-ah**

Hiiiiiiiiiiiii. What are you up to? _2:11 pm_

Tuesday was Byulyi’s free day. The senior only had two classes so, technically, she had several free days each week, but Tuesday was one of those days. If Yongsun knew her well, the athlete would be eating or training. **However**, since they instituted their Tuesday lunches at 3:00 pm, she wouldn’t eat so close to their time together. She was training. Yongsun would bet her life on it.

**From: Byul-ah**

Lol. Someone’s happy.

At the gym. Training. What’s up? _2:12 pm_

Being right shouldn’t have filled Yongsun with as much joy as it did.

**To: Byul-ah**

Had a good convo with Dir. Choi.

He gave me the rest of the day off. My students are gone. _2:13 pm_

The National Football Tournament was underway. SNU’s Men’s team made it to the Round of 16 and were away that Tuesday getting ready for their game the next day. Maybe he was in a good mood after their discussion, but Director Choi took note of this and allowed Yongsun to take the rest of the day off, ensuring that she’d still get paid for the full day of work.

Not in the mood to go home yet and jump into the pile of work she’d certainly have to tackle later, the graduate student hoped that maybe she and Moonbyul could spend more time together than the one hour set aside for lunch.

**From: Byul-ah**

Come to the gym! It’s not far. _2:15 pm_

**To: Byul-ah**

Okay 🤗_2:15 pm_

Quickly packing her belongings, Yongsun bid her colleagues goodbye and scurried to meet Moonbyul. As promised, the walk wasn’t long. In less than ten minutes, she had arrived.

The building was somewhat intimidating at this time of day. Easing the door open, the main lights in the lobby were turned off, only the lights in the trophy displays illuminating the long hallway. As if sensing her uneasiness, the sound of a basketball bouncing repeatedly against the waxed court echoed and served as a guide for her. Following the sound, Yongsun made her way to what appeared to be the practice courts. Rounding the corner and walking through the one door that was held open with a stanchion, a hard-at-work Byulyi was within her sight. And it was a glorious sight.

Her royal blue Kobe 10s perfectly matched the brunette’s royal blue shorts, shorts that were . . . short. Like, 80s basketball player short. Even with the distance between them, Yongsun could tell that the pants looked **good** on Byulyi. The younger girl never had the biggest butt, bit in these shorts, it looked perky. No doubt, a byproduct of all the squats and heavy lifting Moonbyul did almost every day.

The senior’s long, muscular legs were fully exposed. Those protruding calves . . . fully exposed. Slowly, very slowly, raking her eyes upwards, Yongsun felt a little ashamed of ogling her still-unaware-of-her-presence best friend like this, but she was only human. Moonbyul was **fit **and** toned **and** strong **and** muscular **and** fit **and** hot**. The athlete wasn’t even wearing a shirt. No, of course she wasn’t. That would make too much sense. Of course she’d only be wearing a grey sports bra that looked darkened from excessive sweat.

Standing with her wireless headphones in her ear as she bounced the ball with her left hand, Byulyi typed on her phone. Yongsun watched as she waited there staring at the screen. In the same moment, Yongsun’s phone buzzed in her jacket pocket.

**From: Byul-ah**

Hey, you okay?

Are you on your way already?

Want me to pick you up? _2:25 pm_

Moonbyul had been texting **her**. Waiting this whole time on a response from **her**.

She should have been embarrassed at how proud and happy that made her, but she wasn’t. Her lips stretched into a wide smile instead.

**To: Byul-ah**

I’m here! Just got to the gym door.

Turn around, sweaty 🤢 _2:25 pm_

Instantly, the athlete did as told and the beaming smile resulting from noticing Yongsun’s arrival was heartbreakingly sweet.

“Yong! What took you so long?” She ran over, sweeping the older woman into a tight hug.

“Ew! You’re sweaty. Where’s your shirt?”

“I threw it on one of the chairs. It’s even sweatier than I am right now. It’s pretty gross.”

Truthfully, there was nothing gross about Moonbyul at the moment. She was . . . magnificent. The ease with which she carried Yongsun—bookbag and all—across the court and gently placed her into one of the cushioned seats next to the scorer’s table was impressive. And attractive. And a turn-on. Clearing her mind of indecent thoughts, Yongsun did **not** look at the defined abs across from her. She did **not** focus on the veins that ran like an intricate maze from her knuckles and forearms up to her neck. No. That would be wrong. Yongsun focused intently on Byulyi’s eyes. Because she was not a horny mess that lacked self-control. No. She was better than that. She was a young woman aware of all the **respect** that her best friend deserved.

“So?” The athlete looked at her expectantly as she hugged her basketball to her chest.

“So?” Yongsun repeated, confusion coloring every inch of her voice.

“You said you had a good conversation with the Director of The Center. Tell me about it.”

“Oh!”

That helped her focus on more appropriate things. As she often did, Yongsun told Byulyi everything, sparing no details. Reliving the conversation was invigorating and, as she watched the younger woman’s eyes light up at the exact same parts that her own eyes lit up, Yongsun knew that Byulyi understood what the conversation and its potential implications meant to her. She truly understood. And she was grateful to have someone this supportive in her life. Someone that knew her inside and out.

“Whoa, you’re definitely getting a job,” the senior chuckled. “What a relief. Thought I’d have to support you forever.”

“Shut up! What money do you have to support me anyway? Plus, I’m top shelf. You’d need to spend serious dollars to afford my lifestyle.” Obviously bluffing. She hated asking people for help, hated even more asking people for money, and she wore the same clothes until the stitching wore out. There was nothing high maintenance about her. That was the joke.

“Yeah, I know. You’re high quality. You’re worth it though. I’d still support you.” The rest of the jokes that the blonde had ready were struck down as Byul held eye contact with her as she spoke those words with nothing but seriousness in her voice.

Feeling slightly suffocated, the graduate student cleared her throat and did what it seemed she was best at recently—she changed the topic. Trying to grab at the basketball that the younger woman held close, relief flooded her when Moonbyul easily gave the ball up.

“Go do your training or whatever you were doing before,” she said as she threw the basketball across the hardwood floor.

“Come do it with me,” Byulyi grabbed onto both of her hands.

“What is wrong with you today?!” Externally and internally, she was panicking. **What** was Moonbyul on?

“Nothing,” she lowered her tone, voice suddenly deeper. “Help me train.”

“Why are you rubbing my hands like that? And how am I supposed to help you train? I’m not a basketball player. Go shoot your ball.” With each word, her voice grew higher in pitch.

Smiling softly, Byulyi didn’t let up. “You were a manager, right? Our managers help us shoot all the time. Just pass get the rebound and pass me the ball. I’ll do all the work. Come.”

Heart thumping frantically, Yongsun stood on unsteady legs and followed her best friend to the court.

“Just stand under the hoop and pass the ball to wherever I go.”

“What if you miss? Then I’ll have to run around. I’m not dressed to run around.” She was wearing a nice pair of jeans. Cute, but not the best to run around in.

Her question was only met with laughter as Byulyi picked the basketball up. Two dribbles later, she effortlessly and smoothly shot the ball. The ball zipped through the net, the _swoosh_ sound tearing through the gym like a both of thunder: quick but powerful.

“I won’t miss.”

For half an hour, Yongsun stood underneath the hoop and simply caught the basketball as it raced through the net time and time again.

Moonbyul did not miss.

“Play against me. I’m bored,” the athlete suddenly pouted after making yet another shot.

“Are you mad? Why would I play against you?”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

“Nothing about that sounds fun,” Yongsun descended into a seated position at the base of the hoop.

“Just try!”

“You are so annoying!” She frustratedly threw the ball at Moonbyul. The athlete caught it easily.

“Get up. Here, I’ll let you go first. I won’t go hard on you. It’s just fun. Relax.”

Not sure why she was even listening, the blonde stood and stomped to the top of the three-point line.

“Give me the ball. You’re annoying.”

“I am. Yes. And you’re still here. Stop complaining. Okay, try to score.”

Whether she dribbled to the right or the left, Moonbyul was there. The senior found it the funniest thing ever, but Yongsun was growing upset. Until she took a moment to clear her head and realize that there were no rules. The only instructions given were to “try to score”. Gathering the ball in her hands, she held onto it tightly as she ran past the athlete in front of her. In the clear, Yongsun huffed and puffed as she neared her target.

Elated, she launched the basketball at the square on the backboard. That was the trick, she learned. Gently lay the ball off of anywhere in the square.

As quickly as the ball left her hands, it was swiftly slapped away from behind her.

“You’re a cheater,” Byul calmly spoke.

“I’m not! All you said was to try to score. Be clearer next time. And why’d you smack the ball away?!”

“Because I was playing defense and the point of defense is to not let your opponent score,” the athlete looked at her puzzled.

“You could’ve let me score,” she tried pouting cutely.

“Ew. Put that away,” Moonbyul mushed her face, bursting into laughter at Yongsun’s shocked expression.

“You did not just mush me.”

“I did though. What are you going to do about it?” The athlete smirked lazily.

Was this the version of Moonbyul that the other girls got? The Moonbyul at the center of all the rumors she used to hear? It had to be, right? The Moonbyul she spent most of her time with was goofy and shy and easily flustered. **This** Moonbyul was . . . not that. She was confident and cocky and next-level flirtatious and so fucking sexy.

Yongsun refused to play this game today. No.

“I’ll get my things and leave.”

“Oh my gosh. Are you serious?” Yongsun’s steps took her closer and closer to the seats upon which her jacket and bookbag were placed. “You’re seriously going to leave over this? I didn’t know you were this much of a sore loser.”

“Now you know.”

“Oh my goodness,” she snickered in disbelief. Yongsun was genuinely going to leave. The game was a minor annoyance, but more than anything else, she needed to get away from whatever was possessing Moonbyul. She needed to not be near her.

And then the strong arms that lifted her into a solid hug earlier wrapped around her from behind and spun around her.

“Put me down!”

“No. If I put you down, you’ll leave.”

“I won’t.”

“Yes, you will. I know you.”

“I won’t,” the graduate started laughing. This was all ridiculous.

“Promise,” Byul asked as she continued to spin her around.

“I promise.”

“Pinky?”

“Yes.”

“You have to say it.”

“Pinky promise.”

“Okay.”

Both taking a moment to gather themselves, Moonbyul spoke up first. Firmly grabbing hold of Yongsun’s hand, she said, “It’s after 3:00 pm. Let’s eat. Your food is in the locker room. Come.”

Even if Yongsun wanted to oppose, her efforts would have been futile. The athlete was already pulling her through the tunnel to the locker room.

She’d been in there once before. When Byulyi missed a game-winning shot last season and spent a significant amount of time crying her eyes out. It felt like ages ago. The room looked the same, though. Sleek and clean and homey.

“You can sit on the couch. I’ll grab your food. Give me a second.”

The graduate student wasted no time getting comfortable.

This was nice. The time with Byul. It was **very** nice. Not a “meh” type of nice, the type of nice used after a long day of experiences that left one speechless but also completely at ease and calm. This was that type of nice.

“Here you go,” she presented Yongsun with the gimbap. There were a few other dishes they’d shared during their Tuesday lunches, but gimbap was their most reliable option.

“Thank you!”

“Of course. Was going to ask if you wanted to watch tv, but I just got an alarming text in the group chat.”

“What happened?!”

“Someone beat my Mario Kart time on one of the tracks, so I have to reassert my dominance. It shouldn’t take long.”

“You’re being serious,” Yongsun uttered in disbelief.

“Dead serious. I don’t play when it comes to that. Mind you,” she stood to power on the television and gaming console, “I own the best times on every track. This person is, at best, second on the tracks. She’s been trying all year to dethrone me but couldn’t do it. That’s why she’s bragging so hard in the group chat. Rookie move. If she were smart, she would’ve stayed quiet and let it last for longer. Now I’m going to wipe it out only a few hours later. If she didn’t say anything, I wouldn’t have noticed. She did it this morning and chose to call attention to it now. Idiot.”

Byulyi was **focused**. She barely responded to any of Yongsun’s attempts at conversation. It was cute though. The blonde could tell that her best friend **did not** want to talk, but she still gave a few words in an attempt to not be rude.

As the athlete was completing her time trial, the door to the locker room swung open.

“What are you doing here?” She asked the young woman standing in the doorway. “You have class at this time. You should be there.”

“We only had to hand in an assignment today and were allowed to leave early.”

“Ohhhhh. Nice. Still, why are you wasting your free time here?”

“I’m exhausted. Stayed up all night finishing the assignment that I had to turn in. Planned on napping in here until practice later.”

“You want the couch?”

“You’re on it, so I’ll find somewhere else.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We can go back to the gym,” Byulyi stood. Yongsun followed suit. It seemed like the decision had been made. “Oh! Look at the screen. Sangmi is so stupid. You saw her message in the group chat, right?”

“I did,” the girl giggled cutely.

“Let me take a picture of the screen and send it to everyone. It’s too easy at this point. She really thought I was going to let her have a better time.”

“She’ll be sad about it,” the dark-haired girl spread out on the now-vacated couch.

“Good.”

“Also, I apologize for being rude to your friend, unnie. I’m seriously so tired.”

“I completely forgot that you two don’t know each other! Yong, this is Yooa, she’s on the team. Yooa, this is Yong. ‘Yongsun-unnie’ to you.”

“Ah, **this** is Yongsun-unnie. Nice to meet you. I hold Byul-unnie’s phone during practice, so I’ve seen your name on her screen at times. Either that, or she comes rushing up to me during breaks and after practice asking if you contacted her.”

“Shut up,” the senior blushed infinitesimally.

“Don’t be shy, unnie, it’s cute.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Yooa-ssi. What position on the team are you?”

“I’m not on the team. I’m a manager,” the younger girl yawned. “Sorry about that. But yeah, I’m just a manager.”

“And a manager is part of the team. I’ve told her this a million times and she refuses to listen. Yong was a manager in college, too.”

“Oh? You’re not in college, unnie?”

“She’s goes to graduate school here. That means she’s super smart. Brains and beauty and everything else,” Byulyi stated proudly.

“Byul-ah, be quiet. You’re embarrassing me.”

“You know me. You’ve seen me when I’ve been embarrassing. This isn’t that.”

The entire exchange gave her a lot more to think about. Yooa adored Moonbyul, that much was clear. The two were close. There was something about Byul knowing the younger girl’s schedule and insisting that Yooa was a member of the team that warmed Yongsun’s heart. There were so many sides to Byulyi. She was a leader, she was caring and thoughtful, reassuring and playful. She was everything good.

Yongsun decided to take a step back and let the two of them finish their conversation before she said her goodbye to Yooa and let Byul lead her back to the courts.

“Do you always walk around with no shirt like this?”

“Yeah. Everyone does it. After seeing people walk naked in the locker room a couple times, you get used to people with no clothes on.”

“Yet you were embarrassed for me to see you in your bra on your birthday last year?”

“That was different. You’re you. You’re . . . different. Still, look at the growth. Here I am almost a year later walking around in front of you with no shirt on.”

“Yeah, look at that.”

They spent another quarter hour together before a few more of Byul’s teammates filtered in. Not wanting to be a distraction, Yongsun convinced Byulyi to let her go—a taxing deed. Even with some of her teammates and one of her coaches around, the athlete didn’t want her to leave.

Hmm.

*

She needed to end the physical relationship with Seungyeon.

Two weeks after their mid-November conversation where the taller woman confessed, she reached out to Yongsun to let her know that she’d thought a lot about things and felt she had a better grip of her emotions. It was a long conversation, but the point was that she was fine with continuing their original arrangement. She wouldn’t make it “weird” again—her words, not Yongsun’s.

Throughout the conversation, something at the back of her head yelled to Yongsun that she needed to end the physical relationship with Seungyeon. Nonetheless, Yongsun agreed on the condition that Seungyeon tell her if and when things became too much.

The next day, despite knowing that she needed to end the physical relationship with Seungyeon, the graduate student accepted Seungyeon’s invitation to hang out at her house. They ended up kissing, nothing too risqué.

Again, knowing that she needed to end the physical relationship with Seungyeon, Yongsun invited her over a week later. They kissed some, touched over their clothes some. Not the worst thing ever.

Three and a half weeks after “the incident” between Seungyeon and Byulyi, she and Seungyeon were, once again, spending time together at Seungyeon’s apartment. She knew that she needed to end the physical relationship with Seungyeon, **and still**, somehow, Yongsun ended up on Seungyeon’s bed, underneath Seungyeon, with no shirt or bra on, moaning uncontrollably.

She **knew** that she needed to end this. It would undoubtedly lead to something dramatic, something unnecessary. But Yongsun was also **horny**. This thing with Seungyeon had unlocked **something** in her where she thought about sex nonstop. She wasn’t even having any, but the graduate student couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wondering what it would be like when she eventually did. Wondering who her first time would be with. Wondering about all of it. She wanted to be touched and kissed and held and . . . well, Seungyeon was the only person right now that she did those types of things with. It made sense to give in to her urges when with Seungyeon because who else could she give into her urges with?

Yongsun began thinking more frequently about what it’d be like to kiss Byulyi. She sometimes found herself spacing out as Moonbyul talked because she’d stare at the athlete’s lips and get lost. Completely lose track of where she was and what she was supposed to be listening to. But that door hadn’t yet been opened with Byul. The door was open with Seungyeon.

How she got there, Yongsun couldn’t remember. Seungyeon probably said something cute that made Yongsun laugh—she was always saying something cute that made Yongsun laugh—and then probably leaned in for a kiss, because she was always doing that, too. And then somehow, both of their shirts and bras were off, thrown somewhere across the room, and Seungyeon’s mouth had latched onto one hard nipple while her slim fingers massaged Yongsun’s other nipple. Then she switched? Honestly it was a haze. All Yongsun knew was that it felt delightful. It felt **good.**

So good that when one of Seungyeon’s hand slipped into her sweatpants and between her legs—over her underwear—Yongsun opened her legs further.

So good that her phone vibrating incessantly against Seungyeon’s dressing table didn’t register.

So good that it wasn’t until maybe 10 minutes into Seungyeon rubbing against her hardened clit—through her underwear—that the woman on top of her pulled away from their heated kiss with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes.

“Your phone’s been going nonstop for, like, 20 minutes now. You should check it out,” she huskily suggested.

“Okay,” Yongsun just as hoarsely rasped.

Ambling to the dresser, the blonde’s screen was alive with chaos. There were notifications for messages, calls, and voicemails—each in double digits. A couple were from Byulyi, but the majority of them came from Wheein, Hyejin, Heeyeon, and even Chorong.

“What the fuck is happening?” Nothing about this pointed to it being anything good.

“Is everything okay?” Seungyeon called from the bed.

“Not sure yet, but it doesn’t seem like it.”

Once again, her phone buzzed to life, this time while in her hands.

Hyejin.

Once the call was connected, a hysterical Hyejin barked at her.

“Unnie! Where have you been?! We’ve been calling you nonstop and you’ve refused to answer your phone. What is the point of having a phone if you’re not going to answer it?!”

Whatever was going on didn’t seem like a joking matter. Yongsun bit her tongue and took the verbal lashing. If this thing, whatever it was, pushed Hyejin to speak to her this way, it was serious.

“Sorry. I just . . .” I just what? There was nothing she could say that would even sound right. I just didn’t hear my phone because Seungyeon was slobbering on my breasts? Like?! For the first time that day, she felt ashamed of her actions. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” That was a dumb question. Obviously something happened. Fuck.

“Did something happen? Wheein-ah, she’s asking me if something happened!”

In the distance, Yongsun heard Wheein speak up, “Hyejin-ah, calm down. She doesn’t know what’s going on and you’re not helping. Let me talk to her.” After some shuffling, most likely a change of hands, the voice came through the phone more clearly. “Hi, unnie.”

“Hi, Wheein-ah.”

Feeling Seungyeon’s eyes on her, Yongsun left the bedroom to settle on the couch’s armrest. The bedroom was too suffocating.

“What’s going on, Wheein?”

“Um. We just wanted to call so that you were updated on everything.” Her voice was cracking.

“Updated on what?”

“Byul-unnie got hurt today, so we were trying to get a hold of you so that you’d know. She called you as soon as she could, but you didn’t answer, so the rest of us tried to reach out while she’s off getting tests done.” The end of the sentence became muffled as Wheein’s sniffles intensified. It didn’t matter though. She got the message.

Byul was hurt and tried to contact her to let her know, probably to tell her not to worry too much, but she didn’t answer because she was fucking around with Seungyeon.

“Unnie?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t say anything, so I didn’t know if you were okay.”

She wasn’t okay.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Where are you all? I’ll come over right away?”

They exchanged information and Seungyeon offered to drive her to the hospital, but Yongsun couldn’t get out of her own head. Listening to Byul’s voicemail message didn’t help any. In fact, it made her feel like the shittiest person to ever exist.

“Hey, Yong. Tried calling but couldn’t catch you. Anyway, I got hurt in practice. My ankle. Not too sure how serious it is, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay. Don’t worry much. And if Wheein or Hyejin get a hold of you, don’t listen to them. They’re **so** dramatic. They’ll probably make it seem like I died or something. I probably shouldn’t joke about that. For the record, I’m **not** dead. It’s literally just my ankle. So . . . yeah. Anyway, I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

Of course Byulyi would get hurt. Of course it’d happen when Yongsun was doing what she was doing. Of course she missed every call.

Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: One person reason reading this alerted me to the fact that this story has over 1,000 subscribers. Who would’ve thunk it? Certainly not me. Literally do not have the words at the moment to describe the gratitude. It’s surreal that some of you are still reading this! Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.
> 
> Many of you have mentioned that people talk about this story on Twitter. It hit me a few days ago that there should be a hashtag so that you all on Twitter can find each other and vent your frustrations! Let’s go with #GBJB! Use the hashtag, find each other, talk about how annoying I am, talk about whatever you want to discuss, and use the hashtag. That way other people maybe looking to discuss the same things can find you (if you want to be found). Cute, right?
> 
> Fun fact: the previous chapter was supposed to be a split POV chapter containing Byul's (Chapter 34) and Yongsun's (this chapter). That clearly did not happen. Sorry :-/
> 
> ETA: 1) Insoo is an actual idol. Kang Insoo from MYNAME. If you're interested, he has an Instagram. 2) Support real-life Yongsun's collab! I'm sure she worked hard on it. She works so hard on everything. 3) Once again, I apologize for the delay in posting.


	36. Couple-like Tendencies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some relatively strong language. If that's a thing you don't like, now you know.

Her legs were dry. Not attractive in the slightest. Clenching her stomach tight, Moonbyul lifted her back from her mattress and, with great effort, extended her arms to reach her elevated ankle. Chancing a quick glance at the recently closed bathroom door, the senior hastily tried scratching away some of the flakes of dead skin, but it was to no avail—the more she scratched, the more patches of dried skin appeared. Ugh. This was the excitement her days were filled with now.

Dramatically flopping back down, she lamented how physically draining those few seconds were. It had only been three days yet Byul felt that the level of fitness she’d worked decades to achieve had already almost completely evaporated. The simplest things now required **so** much energy. It was maddening.

Instinctively fishing her cell phone out of the covers, Moonbyul felt instantly comforted by the deluge of notifications that filled her screen, almost all from a picture posted hours ago on Instagram—it was flattering that comments and likes were still flooding in.

The idea for the image was born from boredom and maybe, just maybe, the slightest desire to be fed endless amounts of virtual affection—her sense of self had been dangerously fragile these past few days. In the picture, taken from her point of view, Byulyi laid on her back—as she had been doing every day since the injury—wearing only a sports bra with a hand tucked just under the elastic waistband of her sweatpants. Her right leg elevated on a pile of pillows and her bare stomach visible to all, the athlete crafted what she thought an appropriately playful caption:

5,003 likes

**byulyi** Someone come take care of me, please 🥺

View all 3,000 comments

Now fully clothed, she laid with an arm behind her head and enjoyed the comments, almost exclusively from strangers. They did not disappoint:

**akdhs847** Pls fuck me. My husband doesn’t have an Instagram. Pls.

**ghostacct** My wife so sexy 😍

**anon** I think I’m lesbian now.

**noname3** I just want you to tell me happy birthday!

**byulyi** @noname3 Happy birthday! 😘

** oldacct **@byulyi It’s my birthday, too! I just want to spend a night with you!

**byulyi** @oldacct Happy birthday! 😂

**shflwi **Call me old-fashioned, but I was raised to take care of my woman. Make her plate every night. Wash her clothes for her. Always have a clean house for her to come home to.

**random7 **Pick up my calls, answer my texts, our kids miss you.

**HiHello** Who did this to you? I just want to talk to them.

**sarah **I KNOW her strap is big. I just KNOW it.

**finsta21 **Stuff me.

**wkblfan88** Please have your way with me. I’m begging.

Her social media accounts had steadily been gaining attention since the summer. For the most part, Byul didn’t mind it. Their outlandish responses were hilarious. It wasn’t as if any of these people were being serious; hyperbole was the point of social media, it’s what made the interactions fun. Not everyone seemed to understand that, though:

**yongsun** *turns around and heads back to my apartment*

**byulyi** @yongsun No! Turn back around and head to MY apartment 🥺

** yongsun** @byulyi Plenty of others are volunteering to take care of you. You’re in good hands.

** byulyi** @yongsun They’re joking 😩

** yongsun** @byulyi 🙄

** byulyi** @yongsun See you soon 🥰

Yongsun was so cute. She chose the most random things to be sensitive about at times, yes, but she was cute nonetheless. No matter what the graduate student said, Moonbyul knew she was on her way over. The two had practically been joined at the hip since Yongsun’s arrival at the hospital on Wednesday.

Smiling wistfully, Byul remembered the scene upon returning to her hospital room. She had been off getting tests done before the nurse accompanying her finally wheeled her back to her room. Hushed conversations among her friends ended immediately, transforming into frantic worry and fussing over her, even though she’d let them all know that her injury did not seem as serious as she’d first assumed it was. Yongsun, the last to arrive, easily outmatched Wheein, Hyejin, and Heeyeon when it came to concern. The oldest opted to spend the night at the hospital with Moonbyul—maybe it was guilt over coming late, maybe it was genuine concern, but whatever it was, Byulyi was grateful. The two had spent almost every free moment together since. Today was the first time they’d spent more than a few hours apart, and that was only because Yongsun had chores to take care of. Byulyi missed her.

**To: Yong**

You’re still coming, right? _5:11 pm_

**From: Yong**

Yeah. _5:11 pm_

**To: Yong**

When? _5:11 pm_

**From: Yong**

Secret _5:12 pm_

**To: Yong**

Don’t play with my emotions like that.

But okay. Excited to see you whenever you get here🤗 _5:12 pm_

Gosh, she was being clingy, but it couldn’t be helped. The more time they spent together, the happier she felt, and that was **not** an emotion she had expected to experience while nursing an injury that had her on the shelf for at least the next two months.

“Unnie, what were you laughing so hard at a few minutes ago? And why are you smiling at your phone like that?” Yooa asked as she exited Moonbyul’s bathroom.

As was customary since the accident, Byul had a revolving door of visitors. Yooa’s schedule on Thursday and Friday didn’t allow for a visit, but the third‑year made up for it by spending hours today with Byulyi.

“I was laughing at some of the comments on my latest IG picture.”

“Wait, you posted something? Hold on– , unnie! Why would you post that?” The Political Science student gently slapped Moonbyul’s shoulder as she reoccupied the bedside chair earlier vacated.

“It’s funny,” the older of the two exclaimed, her nose muscles scrunching endearingly as she smiled impishly.

“You know exactly what you’re doing when you post things like this.”

“Cut me some slack, I’m stuck in this bed another two days. I wanted some attention,” Byul pouted.

“At least you admit that you’re an attention whore.” Before the athlete could refute that, Yooa changed the direction of their conversation, “Anyway, how exactly does this high ankle sprain work? What happens next once you’re not stuck in bed?”

High ankle sprains were tricky. Treatment and recovery depended heavily on the severity of the injury. The medical professionals consulted thus far believed hers to be a Grade 2 high ankle sprain, moderate. Staring at the black walking boot covering her right foot, Moonbyul explained to Yooa the expected recovery plan: after being allowed off bedrest, she’d start intense physical therapy, splitting her time between Yujin and Kwon Jihun. The first 4-6 weeks would focus on strengthening the ankle and all other ligaments and muscles around it. The rest of her time after that would look to prepare her for a return to basketball.

“You have to work with **both** of them?” Yooa asked, voice colored with surprise.

“Yup. I’m going to die.”

“Yikes. They’ll work you hard but, on the bright side, they may be able to get you back sooner than expected.”

“With the way the team played last night, I’m not too sure my presence is even needed,” Byul joked.

SNU’s Women’s Basketball Team had an away game the night before. It was a blowout, a complete victory. If someone didn’t know better, they’d never have guessed the team was without its captain and star player. The experience was a humbling one for Moonbyul—the team didn’t **need** her to win. And while it stung a bit to feel as if it didn’t matter much if she was present or not, the team’s success without her was enlightening. Seoul National University would **always** recruit the nation’s most talented athletes. Success at SNU did not start and stop with Moon Byulyi. She was still part of the team, and after rehabbing her ankle, she’d return and they’d most likely continue winning, but they’d probably win almost all of their games over the next couple months without her, too. Because that’s what SNU did. SNU were winners. Post-Moon Byulyi, SNU would continue to be winners. But who was Moon Byulyi post-SNU? Once she left the prestigious university, would she still be a winner? Would she still be as feared and respected of a player as she currently was? Was she still an athlete capable of imposing her will on a basketball game as easily as she did in college? She didn’t know, but she wanted to. Byulyi needed to know if she could be all of those things still. If she **would **be all of those things still.

Those questions became seeds planted in the pit of her stomach, subsequently blooming into a personal quest to prove to herself that Moon Byulyi **the** basketball star wasn’t a farce. She had to prove to herself that she wasn’t great because of SNU, that she was great because of her own faculties, her own abilities, her own skills.

“Oh please, unnie. Every single one of us would sell ourselves to get you back,” Yooa pulled her back to the present.

“That’s a bit dark, don’t you think?”

She and Yooa spent a few moments laughing at that before moving on to something else. Moonbyul didn’t want to discuss her ankle, so she shifted the conversation to Yooa and what was going on in the younger’s life.

Byulyi never expected to grow as close to Yooa as she did. Their relationship, through and through, resembled that of an older and younger sister. Yooa was a smart young woman that doubted herself far too often for Moonbyul’s liking. Her sweet nature made Byul want to protect and guide her. She was **so** kind and her first inclination was always to give people the benefit of the doubt. While she admired that quality, Byulyi knew there would be people looking to take advantage of that. As the captain of the team, and as a decent person who wanted **all** of her teammates to do well—no matter what Yooa said, she was a part of the team—the senior looked after Yooa a little bit extra. It wasn’t an indictment on the young woman’s ability to take care of herself, it was just the older sibling in Byulyi taking effect.

The team manager was in the middle of a thrilling tale about how incompetent one of her professors was when Moonbyul placed a hand up to stop her. There was definitely sound coming from the kitchen.

“Yong? Yong? Is that you?” She yelled.

She could tell Yooa was confused, but when Yongsun answered seconds later, Moonbyul saw understanding dawn on the younger girl’s face.

“Yeah!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

“I literally just got in a few seconds ago, Byulyi!” The blonde stormed into the room. “Didn’t even have a second to catch my breath before you started calling for me.”

“Hi, Yong. How was your day? I missed you,” Byul cheekily, but truthfully, countered Yongsun’s clear annoyance.

“Don’t talk to me,” Yongsun rolled her eyes. “Hi, Yooa. Sorry about that. How are you?”

“I’m fine, unnie. Do you want to sit here?” The black-haired junior had already began offering the seat to Yongsun when her offer was politely declined.

“No, thank you. I’m heading to the kitchen soon anyway.”

“What’s in the bag?”

Yongsun had entered the room with a giant, white plastic bag.

“Pillows. Because you can’t keep using the throw pillows from the living room to prop your foot up. That’s not what they’re there for.”

Yongsun was preoccupied with situating the bag in the corner next to Byul’s desk, so she missed the warm smile her words put on the brunette’s face. Even as she followed Yongsun’s movements with her eyes and held the smile on her face, Moonbyul felt Yooa’s eyes on her. The moment the two were left alone, Yooa would interrogate her.

“Did you take your medication for the swelling?” The graduate student placed the four pillows she’d purchased on the bed next to Byul’s feet and gently lifted the injured leg as she replaced the living room pillows with the new ones.

“No,” Moonbyul guiltily admitted. The resulting glare sent her way was terrifying.

“Did you eat?”

“No,” she looked away.

“So . . . what did you do all day?”

“Yooa and I were hangi–”

“Don’t put Yooa in this. Yooa came to visit you. It’s not her job to baby you and make sure you do all the things you’re supposed to do so that **your** ankle gets better. It’s not Yooa’s ankle that’s injured. It’s **yours**.”

Byul wanted so badly to point out how, as she was preaching about it not being other people’s job to baby and take care of her, Yongsun was babying and taking care of her. But Yongsun seemed tightly wound—it wasn’t the right time to make jokes. She’d try to get to the root of the issue later that night.

“Sorry.” They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before Yongsun sighed deeply and looked away.

Raking a hand through her tousled locks, the graduate student calmed down some. “It’s fine. I’m going to put these back in the living room and then I’ll order dinner. Yooa, are you going to stay and eat with us?”

“It’s okay, unnie. I don’t want to impose,” she nervously responded. Byulyi found it funny how tense the team manager got around Yongsun.

“It’s not imposing. Just stay. It’s the least we could offer for spending the day with Byulyi.”

“I’m actually **fun** to hang out with, you know.”

“Be quiet,” Yongsun easily silenced her. “I’m still annoyed with you.”

She did not need to be told twice.

“Ah, okay. Thank you, unnie. I’ll stay.”

“Good. Since you’re a guest, you should choose what we eat. Have Byul text me when you decide what you want. Byul-ah, is Heeyeon coming back tonight?”

“Yeah, but she told me she needs to shut herself in and study, so she likely won’t be socializing with us much.”

“I’ll order for her, too, then. If you need me, I’ll be in the living room working on a final paper.”

Her departure left the room in silence.

When she heard the living room television turn on and was certain that Yongsun was out of earshot, Moonbyul burst into giggles, muffling the sound by covering her mouth with both hands.

“You’re so scared of her,” she barely managed to get out in between her laughter.

“She’s intimidating!” Yooa aggressively whispered. “There’s this no-nonsense aura about her. It makes me feel like I have to be on my best behavior at all times.”

“You weren’t like that when I introduced the two of you in the locker room.”

“I was exhausted, unnie. I was barely awake, but **now**? Yeah . . .”

“She’s nice,” Byul reassured her. “Very nice. And soft and goofy and supportive. Yong’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.”

“And you’re not just saying that because you like her?” Yooa smirked and quirked an eyebrow.

“No, I’m not just saying that because I like her.” They were speaking low enough that she knew it would be impossible for Yongsun to hear.

“So you admit that you like her?”

“Yeah,” Byul shrugged nonchalantly. “There isn’t much point in denying it. It’s pretty obvious to everyone except for her.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t know, too? You lay it on very thick. Not to be disrespectful, but she’d have to be very dense to not realize it.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Byul smiled sadly.

This wasn’t the first time the basketball star had had this conversation over the past few weeks. It was clear to most that she’d upped her efforts to make her feelings known to the older woman, but what almost everyone was unsure of was whether Yongsun realized these efforts.

“Aww. You could just confess. There wouldn’t be much confusion about things after that.”

“That’s also an option,” she noncommittally acknowledged Yooa’s suggestion.

“It may be for the best. If you just tell her and put it out there, then you’ll know for sure how she feels, and you can move on from there. What’s that look on your face for? It really would be for the best. Plus, I think she has feelings for you, too.”

“Other people have said that, and sometimes it **feels** like that, but then I don’t know if I’m confusing her being a friend with her liking me.”

“She’s here nursing you back to health, unnie.”

“She’s my best friend. That’s what best friends do.”

“You have other best friends, too, though. They check on you and make sure you’re okay, but they didn’t completely drop their lives in the middle of finals season to wait on you hand and foot.”

Byul explained earlier to Yooa that Yongsun had stayed over since the accident. If it wasn’t for classes or work, the graduate student was with her in the apartment.

“Yeah, I guess. She’s kind of seeing someone though.”

Quickly Moonbyul explained the Seungyeon situation as well as she could. There were still major gaps when it came to understanding what **exactly** was going on between Yongsun and the other woman, but she shared what she knew. It wasn’t as if she took pleasure in divulging all of this information, but Byul was swept up in the conversation, in dire need of advice from **anyone** that would spare some, and looking for something other than her throbbing ankle to think about.

“Hmm,” Yooa pursed her lips in thought. “That **can** be confusing. But people can like more than one person at a time. They may be hooking up, but you and Yongsun-unnie are very close. The two of you aren’t physical in **that** way, but there’s intimacy there and an obvious chemistry. She came in and immediately made herself comfortable; it’s like this is her apartment too,” Yooa laughed. “I think that counts for a lot.”

“You’re pumping me with a ton of confidence right now,” the athlete admitted. The way Yooa spoke made it seem as if it was impossible for Yongsun not to like her back.

“I’m just telling you what I see, and what I see is that the two of you have some couple-like tendencies. In the way you both act around each other, at least. Very domestic. It’s cute.”

It couldn’t be helped, Byulyi felt her face growing warm, a blush no doubt spreading across her face.

“Look how cute you are,” Yooa pinched her face.

“Be quiet!” The older of the pair whined.

“Byul-ah!” Yongsun’s voice echoed from the living room.

“What?!” The athlete yelled back.

“Hurry up and text me the order!”

“You could’ve just texted me that instead of yelling at me to text it!”

“Just text me the order!”

“See?” Yooa pointed out. “Domestic.”

*

Yooa stayed a couple more hours to eat dinner with Byul and Yongsun. Thankfully, as the time passed, it seemed the third-year saw truth in what Moonbyul had said about Yongsun. She loosened up and began chatting more comfortably with the graduate student who Byulyi knew for a fact was oblivious to Yooa’s initial hesitance.

As the clock ticked closer and closer to Yooa’s departure, Byul grew more and more excited. Heeyeon made her cameo appearance to greet the group and grab her food before scurrying to her bedroom, presumably for the rest of the night. Once Yooa followed suit, it would be just Moonbyul and Yongsun, and the senior could not wait!

She craved alone time with her best friend. Her body was itching for it. Their other friends made jokes about the two of them cuddling, but very few knew about what else went on between them. It wasn’t just holding Yongsun that instantly improved the athlete’s day, it was everything. They shared music with each other, discussed their insecurities, debated memes, scrolled through social media sites together, they did it all. Even if they simply shared the same space and each did their own thing, it was comfortable. It felt **right**. It was a good partnership.

**From: Yooa**

Unnie, make it more obvious that you want me to leave 😂 _8:36 pm_

Yongsun was cleaning up in the kitchen only steps away, so it made sense to her that Yooa texted instead of speaking out loud. They looked up from their phones at the same time and caught each other’s eyes before both choked back laughter.

**To: Yooa**

😅_8:36 pm_

**From: Yooa**

Got it. I’ll get going. Have fun 😂 _8:36 pm_

“Yongsun-unnie, thank you for dinner!” Yooa announced as she stood from the couch.

“You’re heading out already?” The blonde finished wiping down the counters.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to meet up with some friends tonight.”

Byulyi didn’t know if it was true, but she wasn’t going to question it. She and Yongsun said their goodbyes to the young woman and then, finally, they were alone.

Going to the room first, the athlete’s upper arms burned as she crutched her way to the bedroom and got settled on her bed—thank goodness it wasn’t as high as Yongsun’s. Not long later, the other woman entered, her first order of business being to tend to Moonbyul’s leg and make sure it was adjusted properly. Everything was done with such care as to not cause Byulyi pain. The brunette’s heart swelled with gratitude.

“Hey,” she spoke out suddenly and softly.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for taking care of me.” For once, she put the jokes aside. The moment didn’t call for them.

“Of course,” Yongsun softly replied, giving a couple gentle pats the walking boot that was now properly balanced on the pile of pillows beneath it. Moonbyul watched as she carefully climbed onto the bed, flopped onto her side of the mattress, and stared up at the ceiling.

“Tired?”

“Very.”

Pulling Yongsun closer, she tried to keep the conversation going. “Want to talk about it? You seemed stressed when you arrived earlier.”

“I **am** stressed,” she snuggled into Byul’s left side.

“Talk to me about it.” Thankfully, Yongsun did. For the next quarter of an hour, Moonbyul tried to be as supportive and encouraging as she could be by wrapping her left arm around the woman clinging to her and doing nothing else but listening. Yongsun vented about finals and all the loose odds and ends that needed to be wrapped up before the term’s end. There was a lot on her plate, driving home for Byulyi just how much of a sacrifice it was for Yongsun to be here right now instead of holed up in her own apartment.

“As much as I love seeing you every day, you should take more time for yourself, Yong. Finals are hectic. I need you to finish up strong,” Byul rubbed soothing circles on the smaller woman’s shoulders. It would suck to not see her best friend as often, but the last thing she wanted was for Yongsun’s schooling to be negatively affected.

“It’s okay. I like being here with you. It helps me take my mind off things.”

“Oh. Okay.” She thought that was going somewhere more sentimental, but this was fine, too.

“And, obviously, I enjoy your presence. You know that.”

“I didn’t, actually, but thank you for telling me.”

“You already knew that, you just like having your ego stroked.”

“Speaking of stroking things . . .”

“Don’t.”

“How’s Chorong?”

“You’re an idiot! I can’t believe you just said that.” For all her protests about the segue, Yongsun let out a hearty laugh and shared much more detail than necessary about her roommate and the guy she was dating.

“Good for her! I’m going through a serious drought so, for the first time ever, I can’t talk shit. I have nothing bad to say.”

It was a risky move. A bold move. For everything that they shared with each other, Byulyi was well aware of the gulf between them when it came to discussing their romantic lives. Too many of their fights stemmed from miscommunication around, or avoidance of, the topic. She didn’t like it. And she liked even less that she was the biggest reason that gap in communication existed in the first place. If she wanted them to be more, they had to talk about that stuff. Even if they ended up staying only friends, it would be nice to normalize them talking about this stuff.

The senior was also just very fucking curious about what was happening in that part of Yongsun’s life. Because things were clearly happening.

“A drought? Really?”

“Yes, really. Why do you sound so skeptical? You make it seem as if it’s ridiculous to think I could be in a drought,” she playfully poked Yongsun.

“It’s not that,” the older woman smiled at the pokes, “I just don’t really understand why you’d be in a drought. You could have your pick of whoever. There were plenty volunteers under that picture earlier.”

“Those were strangers making funny comments for the sake of being funny. I wouldn’t put the moves on any of them. If I knew them in person, maybe, but not some stranger. What do you take me for?” When met with silence, she chuckled nervously and added, “Never mind. I don’t want to know what you take me for.”

Suddenly, Yongsun propped herself up on her elbows, eyes full of intrigue it seemed.

“What?”

“What are your moves? You said you wouldn’t put moves on strangers, but say you met someone in real life that you liked, what would you do? How does the infamous Moon Byulyi make a move on someone?”

Her face was turning red. She **knew** her face was turning red.

“I don’t have any moves,” the athlete shyly announced, voice deep and low.

“I don’t believe it.”

“Why would I lie? I’m telling you, if it’s someone I **really** like, I don’t have any ‘moves’. I’m actually a mess when it comes to that. I’m horrible at it.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Why?” Byul asked. For the briefest moment, her eyes fell to the older woman’s lips before shooting back up to her face. Luckily, Yongsun was staring off in space, deep in thought.

“I don’t know,” the blonde drawled, “you just don’t strike me as the type to get nervous in situations like that. You’re too smooth for that. I feel like you’d take control and be assertive.”

“With someone I really like, that’s the opposite of me. I get shy and indecisive. Have recently been trying to be better at that though.”

“Why? Is there someone you like?”

Caught off guard by that question, the senior cleared her throat several times and waited until her heart returned to a steady rate. “Is there someone that **you** like?” the brunette countered.

“This isn’t about me,” Yongsun smirked.

“Why not? It should be. Everything should be about you,” Byul smirked back.

“See! You’re too good with your words?” The growing blush on Yongsun’s face was an encouraging sign.

“How? I’m just stating a fact. Everything **should** be about you,” Moonbyul smiled fondly.

When the graduate student hid her face in Byul’s chest, the latter put great effort into hiding just how affected by such a small action she was.

“Seriously, though. I’m curious. Jinyoung and Seungyeon seem worlds apart in terms of personality. What is it about them that made you like them?”

It was something she’d been trying to piece together for months now. There didn’t seem to be any thread of commonality between the two. And while she wasn’t the biggest fan of either of them—she wasn’t a fan at all, actually—Byulyi had to admit that there was **something** about them that caught Yongsun’s eye. She wanted to know what it was.

“That’s . . . a good question,” Yongsun rested her head on Byul’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around her midsection. “I hadn’t given it much thought until now, but I guess they both took the initiative to make a move first. Before Jinyoung, I didn’t entertain anyone. At all. No one approached me in college, I didn’t approach anyone. It was all about school and work for me. My focus was on working hard. Once I got here, though, people started trying to get close to me in a romantic way. It was new. Nice. But I didn’t know what I was doing and I for sure wasn’t confident enough to approach someone first. Jinyoung made it known to others that he was interested in me and I guess that made it easier to think about him in that way. Like, I didn’t have to worry about if he liked me or not—I already knew that he did. Same thing with Seungyeon. She made it clear that she was attracted to me and she made the first move, so I only had to worry about going with the flow, not about if she’d reject me or not. Does that make sense?”

“You like people that make it clear that they like you. Makes all the sense in the world.”

“I don’t know if I’d say I automatically **like** people that do that, but I think I am more comfortable exploring feelings for someone if I’m sure that they like me.”

“I see.”

“Yeah,” Yongsun trailed. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you look for?”

“A connection.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

*

“Wait. You thought I liked **Yooa**?!”

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty and she’s always around. It’s not a far‑fetched idea.”

“If ‘pretty’ and ‘always around’ were the only criteria for liking someone, by your logic, I’d like half of SNU.”

“Well . . .”

“Yong!”

The blonde’s signature high-pitched laugh filled Byul’s bedroom.

It was well after 11:00 pm and the two of them were still up. At some point an hour or so ago, Yongsun momentarily left the bed to turn the lights out before attaching herself at Byul’s hip once more. And so they remained, lying in the dark, each fighting off the fatigue creeping into their voices. Their conversation took no logical path, but Moonbyul was fine with it. She enjoyed following wherever Yongsun’s mind took them.

It currently led them to a bout of silence. A comfortable one.

“Byul-ah,” she heard Yongsun call for her mid-yawn.

“Hmm?”

“What was your first thought when you got hurt?”

“That’s a deep question.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I do. It was only three days ago, but it already feels like forever ago. Probably because I’m already so removed from the emotions of the moment.” She remembered it vividly but didn’t want to put a damper on things. For the past half hour, their conversation topics were upbeat, fun. This was not.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Yongsun softly offered, giving Byul’s waist a slight squeeze.

“Of course I’ll tell you. You know I’d tell you anything. I was afraid.” At simply saying the word, acknowledging the fear, her eyes moistened. Training her eyes on the big black walking boot that shielded her delicate ankle—even in the dark, the contraption’s silhouette stood out to her—Moonbyul opened up. Thus far, she’d reassured everyone else, told them she’d be okay, that she was fine, that she never doubted things, but that wasn’t true.

“I was terrified that I wouldn’t play basketball again. Not at this high of a level, at least.” Clenching her jaw tight, she waited a moment until the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes dried up some. It was all a bit too dramatic for her in the moment, she thought. She **would** play basketball again, she was no longer in the dark about her injury. Byul didn’t understand why the waterworks were happening. She’d avoided the worst.

Ten breaths and a kiss. It took ten breaths and a kiss placed on Byulyi’s chin before the brunette felt confident enough to continue.

“I thought it was my Achilles. Not sure why, maybe I just like assuming the worst, but yeah, I thought I was done. People come back from a torn Achilles, but never with the same explosiveness or pace, and not usually within the same season. It’s always longer—around a year, maybe more, of battling back to **maybe** be 70% of what you once were. I thought that would be me. Like, I can still remember feeling paralyzed by the fear that I’d come so close to going pro, only to have it snatched away,” her voice cracked. Forcefully wiping the tears out of her eyes, she tried to lift the mood. “I’m being dramatic right now.”

“You’re not.”

Even in the dark, the care in Yongsun’s voice was clear. Moonbyul didn’t even need to look at her to know her eyebrows were scrunched slightly, lips pursed.

“Well. Yeah. That was my first thought. Up until then, I was telling everyone I’d go pro, but I didn’t really care. I cared, but I also didn’t. It was a matter of, ‘Oh, they’ll tell me where to go, I’ll go, it’ll be fun.’ But in that moment, when I realized how scared I was of losing everything I’d worked for, I remembered how much I cared about basketball. Maybe I was taking it for granted or whatever, but the moment I thought I wouldn’t be able to play for the foreseeable future, I couldn’t deal. I remember getting rolled out of the gym and putting a smile on for everyone so that they wouldn’t worry, but inside, my body was getting hot. It felt like a fireball building and wanting to be released but being trapped instead. It was suffocating.”

“Then you called all of us.”

“Yeah.”

“And told us not to worry.”

“Yeah. What good would worrying do? The injury happened, there was nothing any of us could do about it. All of you getting worked up would be pointless.”

“And I didn’t pick up,” now it was Yongsun’s voice that cracked.

“Yong. Stop it.”

“You were hurt, and I wasn’t there for you.”

The moisture seeping through her t-shirt told her full well what was going on. When Yongsun cried, she **cried**. Telling her not to cry would only make her cry harder, so Byulyi held onto her instead.

“You have your own life to live, Yong. I don’t expect you to sit around waiting for me to call or text. I called you because I needed you to know what was going on. That’s it. I didn’t call you so that you’d drop everything and come running to me. That’s not realistic.”

“I should’ve been there sooner.”

“You’re here now. You’ve been here every single day since, and that means the world to me.”

She wouldn’t lie, at first, the curiosity about where Yongsun had been was high. Moonbyul **wanted **to know. And then Yongsun showed up, concerned beyond belief, and Byul no longer cared where she was or what she was doing. It wasn’t her business. All that mattered is that Yongsun showed up. She always did.

They lay in silence.

“Never get hurt again. It doesn’t suit you. I don’t like it,” Yongsun rasped.

Never getting injured again was impossible. It came with athletics. But if what Yongsun needed was to hear her promise to never get hurt again, she’d promise to never get hurt again.

“Okay, I won’t get hurt again.” She sealed the promise with a tender kiss on the older woman’s temple.

Drained from the day and the surprisingly emotional turn in conversation, Byul found herself at the edge of falling asleep when Yongsun suddenly shook her.

“Can you set an alarm for 9:00 am, please?”

“Why? Set it on your own phone.”

“My phone is on your desk across the room.”

“So go get it,” she whined. Things always ended up like this. They’d be fine and then one of them—usually **Yongsun**—would do something to pop their bubble of peace.

“No. It’s too far and I’m already comfortable.”

“Yongsun.”

“Byul-ah. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is. Just set the alarm.”

“Why do you even need an alarm set? Tomorrow’s Sunday. Wake up whenever and do what you need to do.”

“I already told you that I’m going to my parents’ house tomorrow and that Wheein and Hyejin are coming to watch over you. I need to be up early so I can get ready and take the train. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can come home and work on my paper.”

Groaning louder than necessary to make sure her displeasure was clear, Byul haphazardly stuck a hand out to scan the night table for her phone. Squinting at the bright light from the screen, she set the alarm and unceremoniously dropped the phone back onto the bedside table.

“You’re being grumpy for no reason,” Yongsun readjusted herself and cuddled closer. “My trip home helps **you**. My mom heard about your injury is making a bunch of food specifically for **you**.”

“Oh,” the athlete changed her tune. “I love your mom’s cooking.”

“I should tell her how much of a fuss you were making.”

“I made the fuss **before** I knew about the food.”

The two bickered for a few more moments before deciding to drop the issue.

“Goodnight, Yong.”

“Goodnight.”

“Say it again without rolling your eyes.”

“No.”

“I set the alarm! What could you possibly still be upset about? You’re a piece of work. You know that, right?”

“It took you forever to do me one small favor.”

Maybe they didn’t decide to drop the issue.

*

**Boomers and Kisum**

**Byul**

When did you change the group name? _9:45 am_

**Kisum**

Why are you up so early on a Sunday?

**Byul**

Why are *you* up so early on a Sunday?

**Kisum**

My gf woke me up 😉

**Byul**

😷

**Kisum**

Jealousy is a disease.

What do you want?

**Byul**

Tattoos!

**Kisum**

Okay!

Matching Olympics tattoos, right?

**Byul**

Yes! We promised. It’s a tradition.

**Kisum**

Tradition!

**Heeyeon**

When I brought it up two months ago, you didn’t want to get them 😑

**Byul**

I was busy! But now I’m not.

**Heeyeon**

Right. You’re injured now and have all the time in the world.

**Byul**

Exactly!

**Kisum**

I’m uninjured, in-season, and very busy.

What to do?

**Byul**

Pick somewhere the tattoo won’t hurt 😁

**Kisum**

Smart. Love it!

**Heeyeon**

Kisum, stop agreeing w/ everything she says.

Call her what she is: selfish.

When she was busy, we couldn’t get it, but now we’re supposed to jump?

**Byul**

I’m very giving. Ask all my exes.

**Kisum **

*calls Haena-unnie*

**Heeyeon**

LMAO!

**Byul**

Wow. So edgy.

Was going to offer to pay for all of the tattoos

But you want to make jokes, so nvm.

Was it worth it?

**Heeyeon**

It’s so funny how I tell *everyone* how giving you are!

Was just telling someone yesterday ❤️👀

**Byul**

🙄

**Kisum**

Okay, when are we going?

**Byul**

I get off bedrest tomorrow.

Any day after that. But before my birthday.

**Heeyeon**

Fine with me. Where are you two thinking of getting your tattoo?

**Kisum**

Inside of my wrist.

Had this planned from the first day we mentioned it.

**Heeyeon**

Nice! Thinking forearm or on one of my fingers.

**Kisum**

Ooooo. That’s cute. Byul-unnie?

**Byul**

Neck.

**Heeyeon**

Gtfoh

**Kisum**

You’re not getting a neck tattoo.

You’re not hard enough for that.

**Heeyeon**

Not cool enough, either.

No way Yongsun-unnie lets you get one there. 

**Byul**

LETS me?

I don’t need anyone’s permission.

If I want one there, I’ll get it.

**Kisum**

They’re together?

**Heeyeon**

Kisum, pls. Be realistic. It’s Byulyi we’re talking about.

Baby steps.

**Kisum**

It’s embryo steps at this point.

**Heeyeon**

She’s trying tho! It’s cute.

I think it’ll happen.

**Kisum**

Let’s hope. I think they’d be cute together.

Let’s make a bet: When do you think it’ll happen?

I say the summer. July.

**Heeyeon**

That’s 7 months away 😂

**Kisum**

You said be realistic.

**Heeyeon**

They’ll happen before then. June.

**Kisum**

**😂😂😂😂😂**

Where is she?

**Byul**

Yong just said a neck tat would be “hot”. She supports it.

Wait.

Fuck you both! 😩

June or July?!

**Heeyeon**

Love you!

What happened to not needing permission?

**Byul**

I didn’t ask for permission. I asked for her *opinion*

**Heeyeon**

Nvm, Kisum. You were right. It’s looking like July 😓

**Kisum**

Byul-unnie, fighting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but a chapter nonetheless. And a chapter full of fluff (?). Even so, it’s fluff with a purpose. Things are happening!
> 
> Have heard good things about the hashtag (#GBJB). Yay! As I've told others, that is whatever you all want to make it. Can't lie, did peek at some of the comments in the tag—you all had me laughing out loud. People were UPSET. Someone called Yongsun a "sick sick bitch", and I will NOT make it a habit of reading you all's business on Twitter, but come ON. That one was too funny to not mention.
> 
> Welcome any new readers, thank you to all returning readers. Wishing you all well this week.


	37. Ground gained? Progress made?

**From: Yong**

Hope your meeting is going well ❤️ _2:11 pm _

A heart. Yongsun sent her a heart. Unprompted. She did that of her own volition.

Internally, Byulyi was aggressively fist-pumping. This was a big deal. This was ground gained. Progress made.

On the outside, though, she kept her composure. She wasn’t supposed to be on her phone. She was supposed to be listening to her agent. And she was, until her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her pants. Thankfully, her father had asked a question that led to an animated conversation among the three adults in the room—it gave her just enough time to hide the phone underneath the extravagant mahogany boardroom table and send a quick response.

**To: Yong**

❤️

(You just woke up, didn’t you?) _2:12 pm_

**From: Yong**

Pay attention to your meeting, not my sleeping habits _2:13 pm_

**To: Yong**

It’s impossible to not pay attention to everything you do 🙈🙊 _2:13 pm_

Yongsun wouldn’t respond to that. Not right now, at least. If Moonbyul had to guess, the graduate student was a blushing mess, trying and failing to handle Byulyi’s flirtatious words. Because, make no mistake, the words were flirtatious. She’d been doing more of that recently, being explicitly flirtatious.

“Did you hear that, Byul?” Coach Do suddenly asked her. The older woman knew the brunette had been distracted. This was unquestionably her way of telling the young woman to focus.

“I missed that part, sorry. Could you repeat it, please?” She asked the agent while quickly pocketing her phone. Feeling her coach’s intense glare from the left, the senior looked straight ahead and focused intently on what the man across the table from her was saying. She’d be getting an earful later from the woman beside her.

“Of course, no problem.”

She, her father, and Coach Do had been here for 45 minutes already. Within the first few moments, the elephant in the room was addressed—_ “Your injury hasn’t significantly impacted offers. It’s a sprain, a high ankle sprain, but a sprain, nonetheless. With the proper care, those heal well. The teams that had an interest are still interested.”_ With that weight lifted off her shoulders, Byul was able to process the information subsequently thrown at her.

The four of them spent the next three quarters of an hour going from country to country, league to league, digging into the details of proposed contracts. And there were handfuls of them—Australia, Spain, Turkey, England, China, South Korea. There were serious offers from teams in all over the world.

“Your dad had asked which of the offers I’d recommend you take, but as it’s a momentous decision for **you**, I asked if you had any preferences for a landing spot?”

Byulyi had to make sure to thank Coach Ok and Coach Do for setting her up with Baek Sungho. In his mid-50s, the seasoned sports agent radiated uncle vibes that masked the shark he truly was. Coach Do had shared a few stories about some of the ways in which Sungho shook teams down to get the most money for his clients. It was one thing to hear about his ways, it was another to **be** one of the clients for whom the calm and composed grey-haired man was battling multimillion-dollar organizations on behalf of.

“Up until now, I hadn’t given it much thought,” she answered honestly.

“Are there any conditions you’re looking to set? For example, maybe you’ll only sign somewhere that you’ll have a guaranteed starting spot? Or maybe you want chartered flights included in the deal? It can be anything, really.”

“That’s . . . wow. Didn’t know those were within bounds to ask for.”

“You’d be surprised. Clients ask for a host of things.”

It was embarrassing, but Byul ultimately admitted that she hadn’t thought of any of that and had no idea of where to even start. “I just want to play good basketball and grow as a player.” As cliché as it sounded, it was true. Regardless of where she went, she’d get paid. Money wouldn’t be the deciding factor.

“Lovely! If that’s the case, then, to answer your dad’s question, I’d recommend focusing on the WKBL here in South Korea or the KBSL in Turkey. In terms of money, you’d stand to gain the most in China, but their teams only take one foreign player each and they usually target internationally recognized names, so they’re not an option.”

“Turkey?”

“Yes. You know the quality of their league, but they also pay very well and have great additional perks. Of all teams offering, Fenerbahçe S.K. in Turkey has the highest base salary. They would also provide housing and a car for you to drive around. You’ve said you’re able to speak English, so we won’t have to ask for a translator, but if you’d feel more comfortable with one, we can request one. Also, at the moment of signing, you’d get a signing bonus. That, however, won’t be until after your season at university is complete—you can’t be an active college-athlete **and** a signed professional athlete. With the WKBL, every team has reached out. It would be a matter of your preference. Base salaries aren’t as high as what Fenerbahçe is offering, but combined with the sponsorships floating around, all things considered, staying local would yield the most money.”

“Compared to Korea, what are the facilities like with Fenerbahçe?”

“They’re top of the top. Facilities among WKBL teams varies greatly, but the top teams are solid. Fenerbahçe is on par with them, I’d say. It’d be hard to find a better coach than who they have, though. From what they’ve told me, their head coach likes you a lot. He’s convinced everyone in the organization that you’re the future and they’re on board with that.”

“Their coach?” Moonbyul asked for clarification.

“He was one of the assistant coaches for Spain during the Olympics,” Coach Do explained.

Oh! While she didn’t have any personal interaction with him during their game against Spain, Byulyi nodded as she remembered how hard-fought of a game they had against the European powerhouse. Even in defeat, South Korea gave Spain a run for its money.

“Of course,” Sungho reassured her, “we don’t have to make a decision today. The purpose, which I think we accomplished, was to review the offers and narrow things down. Take your time to mull everything over. Today is . . . Thursday, the 17th. Let’s schedule another meeting for the first full week of January and see where we are at that time. We can talk more details and, if you’re comfortable, give the team of your choosing a verbal confirmation. How does that sound?” He asked, making eye contact with all three of the people across from him to confirm that they were fine with the decision. All three nodded, but neither Coach Do nor Byul’s father spoke up.

Realizing that this was about **her**, Moonbyul answered for everyone. “That sounds great. I’ll likely have a bunch of questions in the meantime. Is it okay if I send them your way?”

“Of course. You all have my card and I’ve written my personal number on there. Call me whenever.”

That was that. In three weeks, Byul would be back in Baek Sungho’s fancy Seoul office, possibly confirming which team she’d be playing professionally for.

*

“Coach Do, thank you for accompanying Byul and me to this meeting. Beyond being a fan of the sport, I don’t know much about the business side of things. I’m grateful that Byulyi has someone as knowledgeable as you by her side through this process.”

“All of us at SNU care deeply about Byul. It’s my pleasure to be here with the two of you and support in any way I can,” Siwan responded, voice soft and sweet.

“In times like this, Byul’s mom and I are glad that our Byulyi ended up playing for SNU. Byul, I’m going to get the car, come down whenever you’re done up here.”

As soon as her father disappeared behind the boardroom’s closed doors, Coach Do became a different person. Her smile dropped immediately.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Coach! I didn’t do anything,” the senior exclaimed.

“Stop whining. We came here for a meeting with this agent and you spend half the time on your phone,” she chastised Moonbyul as the two made the empty room their own.

They went back and forth as the brunette did her best to explain the situation to her coach. Once the older woman calmed down, Byulyi asked for her thoughts on everything they’d heard from Sungho.

“You’re not going to start if you go to Turkey.”

“Jesus,” Byul breathed in shock at the candor.

“This is why you asked me to come with you, correct? You wanted someone that could tell it to you like it is. In addition to the homegrown talent there, there are talented players from around the world, including WNBA players that go there for their offseason. Fenerbahçe has dominated that league, they’re **champions**. They participate in the Euroleague, so in addition to facing top talent in Turkey, they play the best of the best European teams, too. It’s serious competition.”

“So I should stay in Korea?”

“It’s up to you. If you want to start and make a ton of money, stay here with a team in the WKBL. If you want to learn and grow, if you want a challenge, go to Turkey.”

“So . . . I should go to Turkey?”

“Moonbyul. This is **your** decision. I’m here to give advice. I did that. I **cannot** and **will not** make this decision for you.”

“What if I make the wrong decision?”

Maybe it was clear in her voice how desperate for help the athlete was, but she saw her coach’s eyes soften.

“That’s what life is. We sometimes make a decision in the moment that doesn’t work long term. That’s when we reassess and make a new decision. Whatever you choose, you’ll be able to unchoose. You’re lucky, not every situation works like that, but it works like that with basketball. Wherever you go, you’ll be making a lot of money, so that’s not what this decision is about. Figure out what you want **basketball-wise** and go where you’ll be able to achieve **that**.”

Byulyi leaned against the back of one of the fancy leather chairs with one of her crutches tucked under her arm as she processed the words of wisdom. Thankfully, Do Siwan let her.

“I’m kind of afraid,” she whispered. That was a big statement. It meant many things as there were several things about the situation that scared her, but those would stay secret for now.

“I can tell.”

“How do I get rid of that?”

“Tackle whatever you’re afraid of head-on.”

“Mmm . . . I guess.”

After a few moments of calming silence, Byulyi thanked the older woman and suggested they finally head out.

They made it down the hall to the elevator, the only sound between them the steady click-clack of Byul’s crutches striking the tiled floor. After a few minutes, a ding signaled their elevator arriving. Assuming their last few minutes together would continue in silence, Byulyi was shocked when her coach spoke up again.

“’It’s impossible to not pay attention to everything you do.’ Is that . . . how kids flirt these days?”

“Coach!” The senior’s voice bounced off of the elevator’s walls. The blush creeping across her face could not be stopped.

“What? I’m just trying to understand!”

“How did you even see that?!”

“You did a horrible job of hiding the phone, Byulyi. I let it go at first because I assumed it was an emergency, then I saw what was actually going on. Seriously, was that you flirting? Because it was . . . weak. Very weak.”

“Oh my gosh . . .”

*

The drive back to University Village was eerily quiet. Or maybe it only felt eerie to Byul. Maybe it was her unresolved uncertainty of things to come that left her buzzing and acutely aware of everything—every smell, every sound, everything. She just couldn’t focus. And her father was not the man to pull her out of that. He, too, was a thinker. A man of thoughts, not words.

Sighing dramatically for the fifth time—she’d been counting—Moonbyul glanced her father’s way. No reaction.

Accepting defeat, she broke the silence.

“Appa, what are your thoughts on the meeting? On everything?”

From the time she shared with her parents that going pro was an option she was considering, her father hadn’t shared much of an opinion. Aside from offering to take the day off today to accompany her to this meeting, Moon Sangcheol didn’t mention professional basketball. In addition to desperately needing the advice, Byulyi was genuinely curious about where he stood on things.

Before the reticent man uttered any words, the brunette felt the vehicle lurch to a stop. They had reached UV.

With **still** no words coming from her father, Byul opened her mouth to ask the question again—he must not have heard her—when her father’s low yet powerful voice filled the empty space.

“I won’t pretend to understand what’s happening. I have no idea. That’s why I haven’t asked you anything about it. It’s not because I don’t care, it’s because I don’t understand. And that’s hard for me to admit.” He had yet to look her way, each word directed at the windshield. “As a father, my job is to provide for my family, step in with answers—I don’t have any of those right now. This is unfamiliar territory. So, I apologize if what you’re looking for are answers. I don’t have any. All I have,” he finally released his grip on the steering wheel and turned to face his eldest daughter, “are words of assurance. Your mother and I, we love you. We’re proud of you. The dream was for you to get a good education and have it paid for through basketball. In half a year, you’ll accomplish that, you’ll graduate from one of the best universities in the country. Everything else has been beyond our wildest dreams and of your own doing. Do you know what it’s like watching your eldest daughter represent the country at the Olympics? I can die proud, Byul-ah. You’ve made us proud and you’ve worked hard. The decision ahead of you is an important one. Make it with a clear head. If you’re considering staying in Korea for your own well-being, do that. If you’re considering staying for our sake, don’t. It’s not that we want to shoo you away—of course we’d love to watch you play professionally, but we want you to live your life. Do what’s best for you. You’ve worked hard for all of this, so have fun. Enjoy it. You’ve earned it.”

Vision growing blurry from the tears that unknowingly weighed on her lower lids, Moonbyul blinked her eyes free of the tears threatening to hold her captive. To call this a rare moment of emotion from her father would be an understatement. Byul knew he was proud of her, but to hear him say it, and in as many words as he did, was something it’d take years to fully process.

His words weren’t what she was looking for, but Moonbyul shouldn’t have been surprised that they were exactly what she needed.

*

Still reeling from the emotional moment with her father, Byulyi exited the UV elevator on the third floor and, instead of turning left, the senior headed to the right. She needed Yongsun.

Not bothering with formalities, she entered the apartment code and crutched through the door.

“Um, can I help you?” Ugh, Chorong.

“Where’s Yong?”

The older woman simply pointed down the hall towards Yongsun’s bedroom. Wasting no time, the senior headed to her destination without sparing another look Chorong’s way. As she retreated, she could hear the other woman snicker a disgusted “couldn’t even say thank you. Rude.”

She’d fix that later. She **had** to. If she was going to date Yongsun, Byulyi knew she’d need Chorong on her side. Ugh.

Barging through the familiar beige door, Moonbyul saw a startled Yongsun rise quickly form her desk chair.

“What the–”

Before the blonde could complete her statement, Byulyi had dropped her metal supports and thrown herself at Yongsun, pulling the older woman into a tight embrace, all while balancing on her uninjured leg. Burying her face in the shorter woman’s neck, Byul ignored the several attempts Yongsun made at getting her to explain what had happened.

Maybe it was 30 seconds, maybe it was 5 minutes, Byulyi didn’t know. What she did know was that after the fourth time of asking “what’s wrong?” Yongsun let her be, let her cling to her, let her compose herself. She **always** knew how to handle her, and Byul would never stop thanking the powers that be for putting such a perfect woman in her life.

“Do you want to lie down?”

She didn’t answer verbally, but Yongsun must have felt her nod profusely because a moment later, the older woman was pulling her towards the bed. Not one to forget her manners, Moonbyul helped Yongsun up before using her upper-body strength to lift herself up.

They took their time getting situated—Yongsun on her back, Byul on top of her, head nestled into the older woman’s chest—before Yongsun tried again.

“What happened?”

Distracted for a moment by the way Yongsun’s heart began beating faster when Byulyi wrapped arms around her waist, the youngest of the pair eventually snapped out of it and gave an answer.

“My dad told me today that he and my mom are proud of me. He dropped me off and told me that. Then he gave me a hug and kissed me.”

She thought it would’ve been more difficult to share that, but it slipped out so easily. Sharing small, yet personal, details like this with Yongsun came so naturally now. It was becoming second-nature to just **say** things simply because she wanted Yongsun to know them, too.

“Is that . . . a bad thing?”

“No. It was just very surprising. You know he’s not the type for displays of affection like that.”

“It seems like no Korean father is the type to do that.”

“Hyejin’s dad is. He’s very affectionate.”

“Hmm. I don’t think I met him. Wait, I did. Last year when he came to pick up Wheein and Hyejin’s things for winter break. He was very sweet.”

“Mmm.”

“Back to you though. What about him saying and doing that made you come here in hysterics?”

“It’s just . . . overwhelming. Like, he’s my **dad**. He’s one of the people I look up to the most and here he is telling me that he’s proud of me and that I’ve exceeded his dreams and all this other stuff. I know he meant what he said, but it makes me feel like I have to work even harder to keep making him proud.”

“Sounds like he and your mom are going to be proud no matter what.”

“That’s what he said, but I still feel like I have to do **more**. All these teams are throwing money at me, but I don’t feel like I deserve it. If anything, **my parents** deserve it. I haven’t done anything worthy of it.”

On and on and on she went, dumping her feelings of inadequacy on Yongsun. The blonde listened attentively, all the while stroking Byulyi’s hair.

Growing self-aware of the fact she’d been talking endlessly, the brunette tried to make light of the situation. “You’re not saying anything. Am I talking too much?”

“This moment isn’t about me. Why would I say something?”

“I don’t know, you normally say something,” Byul answered, words spaced out as Yongsun’s magic fingers brought her closer and closer to sleep.

“You’re battling against your own internal feelings. Nothing anyone else says is going to fix that. **I** can’t fix that, only you can. I can listen, I can hold you, I can be here for you, but that’s all. So, that’s what I’m doing.”

Lifting her head and gently balancing her chin on Yongsun’s ribs, Byulyi stared intently at the woman in front of her. Yongsun stared back. Goodness, she was beautiful. Even with her oversized t-shirt and hair in a messy bun, she was just . . . everything.

Ignoring the way her own heart raced faster, Byulyi continued staring, eyes dropping for a few beats to Yongsun’s lips, long enough that she knew the graduate student caught her, but she didn’t care anymore. She wanted to get caught. Actually, she **wanted** to lean in a bit and finally kiss Yongsun, but Byulyi remembered that she promised herself she’d do this properly.

“What are we doing for my birthday?” She changed the topic suddenly, voice notably husky.

“All of us are coming over on Saturday, but other than that, I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“You didn’t plan anything for the day of?”

“I got your gift, but that’s it.”

“Let’s go out.”

“Excuse me?” Yongsun asked and coughed a bit.

“Let’s go out for my birthday,” she repeated with more confidence. “You’ve always said that you want us to go out more often, so for my birthday, let’s do that. I want to go somewhere. Just the two of us.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Yongsun sent Moonbyul into a tailspin as she took forever to respond. Was she laying it on too thick? As she replayed the conversation in her head, maybe this sudden insistence that they go out was out of place? Maybe she–

“Okay,” Yongsun whispered.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” the graduate student gingerly held Byul’s face between both hands and caressed her cheeks, “okay. We can go out for your birthday.”

“Okay,” Moonbyul flashed a brilliant, bright smile of relief and excitement.

Finals were over. There were no longer academic demands hanging over their heads, and they behaved as such. For the rest of the day, Yongsun and Byulyi stayed lying in each other’s arms, stomachs pressed close. The athlete recapped the day’s events as she enjoyed the slender fingers that languidly continued massaging her follicles. She shared everything, from how much money she stood to make, to all the teams that were interested, to what her final choices seemed to be. The more she spoke, though, the more she realized that she hadn’t factored Yongsun into the decision.

There was something between them. Eight days had passed since her injury and, in that time, things between her and Yongsun had shifted. Prior to that, everyone else had figured or guessed that the older woman maybe, probably, might have more-than-friendly feelings for Byul. No one knew for sure. After their time together this past week, though, Moonbyul could tell. She **knew** there was something coming from Yongsun’s end. Especially over the course of the past few days, something was different. Be it the way Yongsun **held** her, or the way the blonde’s breath would grow heavy when Byulyi touched her, there was **something** there and Moonbyul wanted to explore that properly. She owed it to herself and to Yongsun to put her best foot forward and give them a real chance of becoming more. To do that, she needed to be in Korea. Well, maybe not **needed**, but things between them would develop more smoothly if she stayed in Korea.

“Wow. Korea and Turkey. Are you leaning towards one more than the other?”

“Slightly.”

“This is the part where you tell which one it is you’re leaning towards,” Yongsun verbally nudged.

“Haven’t made the decision yet, but I’m thinking about staying in Korea. There’s a lot of flexibility if I stay. I’d have more options. Plus, I’m still in the mix for the National Team. It would be easier to be part of that if I was around.” _And I could date you._

“Hmm. Well, I’d support you in whatever you decide. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m so grateful for you. You’re the best, Yong. Thank you.”

“Why are you suddenly thanking me?” The graduate student sputtered, suddenly flustered.

“Because I don’t think you understand how much you mean to me.”

“Oh yeah? How much do I mean to you?”

“You mean the world to me.”

No verbal response came.

As had become customary though, Moonbyul felt Yongsun’s heart thumping against her chest, and smiled tenderly against Yongsun’s stomach as the streams of air expelled from the older woman’s nose gently tickled her eyelashes.

An impression! She was finally making a strong one.

*

The next day started off the same as every other day since Moonbyul got hurt: physical therapy with Yujin at 8 am, a half-hour break starting at 10 am, then a consultation with Kwon Jihun at 10:30 am before being released at 12 pm.

The sequence was physically exhausting, but more than anything, having to re‑learn the basics, like how to walk, was a mental drain. Demoralizing was really the word she’d use for it, but Kwon Jihun had drilled into her the importance of positively reframing things.

Thankfully, today brought with it the promise of excitement. Byulyi, Heeyeon, and Kisum were getting their tattoos! The fact that they found a day and time that worked for all three of them was a miracle. Even more so that they were able to find a tattoo artist they all agreed on.

Having gone through more than enough _he said, she said, they recommended_, the young women felt comfortable with an artist that Kisum’s girlfriend heard of through a friend.

“_Dahye swears by her. She said that one of her closest friends gets every tattoo from this lady._”

And that was what sealed the deal on this Taena woman. Dating Kisum aside, Dahye had high standards. She wouldn’t steer them wrong with this recommendation.

Pulling up to the apartment that matched the address Dahye gave them, Byulyi took her time exiting her car’s backseat. Heeyeon and Kisum eventually joined her on the sidewalk, all three taking in the residential area around them.

“You sure this is the correct place,” Heeyeon asked skeptically.

“Positive. Dahye-unnie made me memorize it.”

“You sound like a child,” Byul teased her.

“Maybe. Let’s say that’s true, then I’d a child with a girlfriend. What about you?”

“I’d be **not** a child that has a date next week,” the senior smirked smugly.

“Wait, what?” Heeyeon interjected.

“A date. I have a date next week. On my birthday, to be exact.”

The three walked at a leisurely pace as they spoke, Kisum and Heeyeon cautious of pushing Byulyi to walk too quickly. She’d worked her way up to a secure ankle brace and one crutch instead of the clunky walking boot and two crutches, but Byul still had her limitations, and her friends didn’t want to be the reasons for any setbacks in her progress.

“With whom do you have a date?” Heeyeon asked, interest piqued.

“Yong.” She could **finally** say that. Byul was proud of herself.

They arrived at the apartment’s door and buzzed the unit they’d been instructed to find.

“**How **did that happen? Tell us everything,” Heeyeon commanded. Piling into the elevator, the ride up to the fourth floor was full of Moonbyul’s excited squeals and glee-filled words that told the full story of how it was she finally made a substantial move towards securing a relationship with Yongsun. Proud of herself, the athlete let silence hang in the air after completing her tale.

“Unnie . . . are you sure Yongsun-unnie knows that this is a date?”

“Of course she knows it’s a date. What else would it be?”

“I mean . . . it kind of just sounds like the two of you are going to be hanging out for your birthday,” Heeyeon reluctantly admitted.

“No. It’s not like that. Trust me.” She couldn’t tell them about heartbeats, quickened breaths, and emotion-filled touches. They wouldn’t **get** it. “Just trust me. It’s different. It’s different. It means something.”

“Maybe it’s a you and her thing. Something only the two of you understand,” Kisum tried to reassure her.

“Yeah, maybe it’s that,” Heeyeon agreed.

“I asked her to go out and she said yes. That’s a date,” she frustratedly explained.

“You asked her to go out for your birthday. That’s the part that’s making it weird. But, again, if she knows it’s a date then that’s all that matters.”

That soured her mood for the rest of the day. They found the secret tattoo studio. They got their tattoos. The tattoo artist was lovely. Everything went perfectly. But Moonbyul couldn’t enjoy any of it, she was too preoccupied with fretting over the seeds of doubt Heeyeon and Kisum had planted.

Yongsun knew it was a date, right? They were going out on a date. Byulyi hadn’t explicitly said the word, but it was clear that this would be a date.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right?! Lmao. Question: why is everyone assuming the story would end after anything happened between these two? That would be so anticlimactic. It would send people into a rage. Y’all would curse me out for days. Hmm . . . I’m thinking . . .
> 
> Unrelated and much more serious than my usual notes, a lot happened in the world this week. Hoping that you all can find moments of peace, happiness, and humor ♥
> 
> Will be back to regularly scheduled jokes (and hopefully a better written chapter) next week. Usually hate spoilers, but the next update will be Yongsun’s! Things have been too cute for too long :)


	38. They'd Have Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long as hell. Break it up into parts if need be. It's LONG.

Silence.

For the first time in 9 days—the amount of time since Byul’s injury—the graduate student was met with complete silence. Lying in her bed and engulfed by her comforter, she heard nothing but her thoughts. For the first time in 9 days—the amount of time since Byul’s injury—Yongsun had the luxury of taking a breath and processing everything that had happened since. Chorong was out with Insoo, Wheein and Hyejin were packing for winter break, and Byulyi was out with Heeyeon and Kisum.

She was alone and wondering what the hell had transpired over the course of the past week.

To call the experience a whirlwind of emotions would do it no justice. Part of her refused to believe that this all started only **one** week ago. In the blink of an eye, she went from a moaning mass of putty in Seungyeon’s very capable and experienced hands, to terrified and distraught upon being notified of Byulyi’s injury, to a round-the-clock caretaker doing her part to ensure the athlete had an uncomplicated start to her recovery. Taking a mental step back, Yongsun sighed internally at how much there was to sift through. Since the accident, she had been doing what needed to be done, not giving much thought to what and how she was feeling. Today, the graduate student had nothing **but** time to think.

Ignoring the storm brewing in her stomach from hunger, Yongsun rolled onto her back and stared blankly at her ceiling as the one person dominating her thoughts for the past week continued to do so.

Where to even begin with Moon Byulyi? None of the words used to describe her best friend were ever the right ones. The right words didn’t exist, or maybe, Yongsun thought, it was her limited and stagnant vocabulary that kept her from ever properly articulating what the senior meant to her. To accurately convey to another the dread that held her hostage when she got **that** phone call from Hyejin? To explain the guilt feeding on her insides at not being there for Byulyi from the very beginning? Describing the intensity of the connectedness, intimacy, and desire nurtured and enhanced during their week of, essentially, living together? All impossible. Yongsun could not put proper words to any of it. Especially the last set of feelings.

While not always the most observant, the young woman wasn’t oblivious to the intensification of things between her and her best friend. What used to be a hint of attraction, was now anything but. It was obvious. To everyone. Including to Yongsun, but she had no idea what to do with that.

The attraction felt for Moonbyul wasn’t new, its increasing potency was. Every moment they shared in the past week ran on loop in her head—the innocent and intentional touches, the heart-to-hearts, the glances, the drowsy conversations before one or both succumbed to sleep. Things between them were changing, evolving into more, and all she could do was let it happen. Let things run their course. Because Byul wasn’t saying anything. Yes, the brunette was clingier, touchier, and flirtier, but she wasn’t outright acknowledging anything and Yongsun didn’t know what the younger woman wanted from her. Had no idea what to make of the extra . . . whatever it was that was happening.

In an instant, her mind drifted. She reckoned the dam was bound to break. She and Byulyi would inevitably reach a breaking point where the changing dynamic between them would have to be addressed, no? Probably not any time soon, but eventually. What would she say? What would she do? What did she **want**? **That** was the real question. What did Kim Yongsun want? Still staring up at the ceiling, the blonde roughly rubbed her eyes in agitation, wishing she could just as easily will this problem away—because it **was **a problem and **would** inevitably grow into a larger problem. She was sure of it.

Humoring herself, Yongsun thought and thought and thought. If Byulyi confessed to having feelings for her, what then? For so long, the athlete was her **friend**. Her best friend. For the past few months though, it was more than that. She liked Moonbyul. There was something about the younger woman’s playful and teasing lopsided smirks, the way she held Yongsun in her arms—a grip strong enough that the graduate student felt protected and safe, but delicate enough that the older never felt trapped—Byul’s cool and composed exterior around most, but the way that mask instantly evaporated when around Yongsun, revealing a goofy, sensitive, and compassionate young woman. Their relationship was a safe space for Yongsun. Everything she felt could be shared with Byulyi: her fears, inhibitions, insecurities, hopes, dreams, everything. To date, she’d watched at least a hundred dramas and romcoms. They all told her that everything she had with her best friend were the ingredients for a perfect romantic relationship.

Except, she still wasn’t ready for one. Especially not one with one of the most important people in her life.

Down the line, she could see it. Her welcoming Byulyi home after a stressful training, supper ready for her. Her attending all of the athlete’s basketball games, probably having gained a reputation among staff and teammates for being too rowdy and vocal when things didn’t go Moonbyul’s way. The two of them going on trips together, caught up in their own little world full of inside jokes and acts of affection that, by that time, would’ve become second nature. Yongsun could picture it. Right now, though, no. There were more pressing matters at hand, for example, where she would be **working** after graduating in five months.

After her meeting with her agent the day before, Moonbyul made it clear that she was leaning towards staying in Korea. With that being the case, Yongsun allowed her shoulders to drop, her facial muscles relaxed, she rid herself of the stress that dutifully followed her thoughts. She’d have time to think all of this through. Byul had yet to confirm that her actions were indicative of wanting more. And even if the younger woman did, they’d have time. Byulyi wasn’t going anywhere. They’d have time.

*

As it turns out, thinking for hours about a stressful, partially hypothetical situation can be draining. The cries of hunger coming from Yongsun’s stomach became more frequent as the day wore on, eventually becoming unbearable. The desire to not move all day overpowered by the physiological need for food, Yongsun reluctantly hopped out of bed, retrieving her cell phone from the night table as she did so.

_2:15 pm_

_Message from Byul-ah_

_Missed FaceTime from Seungyeon_

Seungyeon.

It seemed like forever since the two last had a conversation of substance, but it had actually been 9 days—the amount of time since Byul’s injury. Out of sync text messages were exchanged, but the two hadn’t **spoken**. Yongsun knew it was her fault. Seungyeon had tried repeatedly, taking it upon herself to reach out, each time with a new topic that she’d hoped would spark conversation, even going so far once as inquiring about Moonbyul’s well-being. The graduate student felt guilty. Between finals and nursing her best friend back to better health, Yongsun hadn’t allowed time for much else, leaving Seungyeon to bear the short end of the stick.

There was more to it, she knew. More to why she avoided Seungyeon of all people, but every time it bubbled closer to the surface, Yongsun attempted to swallow it back down: she felt guilty. Inextricably linked were Seungyeon and Moonbyul’s accident. Every time she thought of the former, the blonde remembered that she wasn’t there for her best friend after the latter. And, thankfully, Byulyi had forgiven her for not initially being present, but remnants of regret lingered. Maybe the timing of the video call was perfect. Chatting with Seungyeon could be the first step towards overcoming whatever psychological phenomenon was causing her to be as distant as she was.

But first, Moonbyul’s text message.

Waking up the phone’s screen with a tap of her thumb, Yongsun trudged to the kitchen, swiping unruly strands of blonde hair from her face with her left hand as she swiped across her lock screen with her right.

Moments later, leftovers from the night before rotating in the microwave, Yongsun leaned her elbows against the kitchen island and made her way to the message from her best friend.

“What the hell,” she breathed to herself, thumbs already furiously typing out a response.

Moon Byulyi would be the death of her.

**To: Byul-ah**

?!?!?! _2:36 pm_

A response came immediately.

**From: Byul-ah**

Do you like it?!

**To: Byul-ah**

You never told me you were getting a neck tattoo!

**From: Byul-ah**

I asked you about it on Sunday.

Before you went to you parents’ house?!

Racking her memory for any such conversation, Yongsun sighed in confusion.

**To: Byul-ah**

I would’ve remembered you talking about a tattoo.

Wait!

**From: Byul-ah**

Exactly.

**To: Byul-ah**

You asked what I **thought** about neck tattoos.

You never said you were getting one 🙄

**From: Byul-ah**

Why would I ask about one unless I was getting one?!

**To: Byul-ah**

Why do you do half of the things you do?

**From: Byul-ah**

Do you like it?

Byulyi sent a picture of her new tattoo. Really, what was there not to like? Looking up to the heavens, Yongsun thanked all the powers that be that this conversation was happening through text messages and not face-to-face, because the blonde was certain she’d have made a fool of herself otherwise. The tattoo itself wasn’t very large or intricate—it was a neat and clean illustration of the Olympic rings, but it just looked **right** on Moonbyul. It fit. Glistening some from the ointment spread evenly over it, Yongsun found herself entranced by the interlocked circles, her body reacting instinctively. The tattoo was so simple, yet she found it exceptionally attractive.

Reigning herself in, Yongsun let out a deep breath and, with it, the jitters this new tattoo awoke in her.

Deciding to dig into her confidence reserves and poke back some, she sent one final message before setting the device face down on the island and retrieving her food.

**To: Byul-ah**

It’s sexy. _2:45 pm_

*

“Hi, stranger,” Seungyeon softly spoke, her bright smile filling the screen.

After her playful-but-honest response to Moonbyul earlier, Yongsun settled on the couch and ate her meal. With a rerun of some drama murmuring in the background, she willed herself to not check her messages, stomach twisting at what the three new texts from Byulyi contained. Left with no other reason to not do so she opted to return Seungyeon’s video call from earlier. Leaving her waiting any longer would be rude.

“I’m a stranger?” The blonde softly asked in return.

“It feels like it. How’ve you been? And why are you wrapped so tightly like that,” Seungyeon chuckled at the burrito-wrapped woman and her antics.

“I feel comfy like this.” After a couple seconds of silence, Yongsun spoke up again. “I’ve been okay though. Busy. I’m sorry for not checking in with you as often as usual.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure things have been hectic. Just wanted to make sure you’re alive.”

That. That right there was what made things with Seungyeon difficult to handle properly. The taller woman was sweet and understanding. Thoughtful. Even when Yongsun didn’t feel she deserved any of that.

A clear-headed person would have broken things off with the brunette by now. It was the only logical option. Seungyeon had feelings for Yongsun. And, yes, Yongsun was attracted to the other woman, but whatever she felt paled in comparison to the strength of Seungyeon’s feelings for her. She needed to end the physical relationship.

Yet every time Yongsun told herself this, Seungyeon would say or do something that wrecked her resolve. Like this video call. There were no traces of malice or accusation coming from the former athlete. Instead, her words were laced with concern and sincerity.

“I’m alive,” Yongsun delicately muttered.

“That’s good. I’m relieved.”

“I miss you.” Now lying on the couch, the blonde almost groaned out loud at her lack of filter. She **did** miss Seungyeon. As a friend and, honestly, as more. The young woman would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t enjoy their extra activities. With all the stress of the past week and the tension between her and Byulyi mounting, Yongsun wouldn’t mind being trapped underneath Seungyeon again, at the mercy of the taller woman, subject to her touches. That might actually be exactly what she needed right now.

But she couldn’t do that to Seungyeon. Dragging her deeper into this mess would be inconsiderate, cruel, even. But Yongsun **did** miss her. She just didn’t mean to say it out loud and give Seungyeon the wrong impression.

“I miss you, too. We should hang out,” Seungyeon shyly responded, a hesitant smile on her face.

“We should,” Yongsun smiled back.

“When are you free?”

“Classes are over and I’m not on the schedule at the Center over break, so things are pretty wide open on my end. What about you?”

“I’m not letting you disappear on me again, so I’m going to fit into your schedule. I’m off for the holidays starting next Wednesday, but we’re visiting family in Cheongju until the 27th. Any day after that, though, just say the word.”

“Hmm,” Yongsun blushed at the brunette’s tone. It was no longer unsure and hesitant. Time with Yongsun practically guaranteed now, Seungyeon was growing in confidence with each syllable uttered. “Monday, the 28th then?” Everything before then was Byul’s—tomorrow was the pre-birthday celebration that their friend group was throwing before everyone dispersed for the holidays. Tuesday was the athlete’s birthday and “their” day together. Yongsun would likely need Wednesday to recover.

“That’s perfect. You’ll be my late Christmas present.”

Smiling dumbly, Yongsun was left speechless, her ears growing warm, something that—judging by the brunette’s equally dumb smile—Seungyeon seemed to be proud of herself for causing.

*

“You all should have seen it. She was squirming like a baby,” Heeyeon exclaimed. The tallest of the group had been blessing whoever would listen with a play-by-play of Byulyi getting her tattoo. The effects of their hours’ worth of drinking evident in her rambunctious and slurred words.

Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin showed up at Heeyeon and Byulyi’s apartment at 8:00 pm, ready for the hijinks that were sure to take place.

They were not disappointed.

Maybe it was wanting to celebrate the conclusion of an especially hellish semester, or a collective relief at Moonbyul’s injury not being serious, but it seemed all five of them were ready to let loose.

And they did.

Every single one of them.

There were no questions asked, no rejections, no nothing. Everyone drank to their heart’s content, Byulyi probably the most of anyone. Which, ultimately, made sense—the celebration was for her.

The food sat on the kitchen island, picked at, but mostly untouched. Empty alcohol bottles strewn across the apartment a surefire sign as to the sustenance of choice for the evening. It was a messy affair, truly. No one was in their right mind, which was exactly what everyone needed. Liquor flowed freely, activating hips that followed the rhythm of whatever songs Hyejin played, and equipping everyone—especially Yongsun—with confidence that usually evaded them.

“You’re full of shit,” Byulyi bellowed from her position on the couch in firm objection. “I didn’t squirm.”

“I’ll call Kisum right now. Dare me.”

“Call the tattoo artist,” the athlete countered, already pulling her phone from its spot on the couch.

“She gave you her number? **That’s** what she was giggling with you about after we all finished?”

Having finished helping Hyejin pick the next song, Yongsun only moments ago settled back into her seat for the evening—Byulyi’s lap—when she caught the tail end of Heeyeon and Byulyi’s back and forth. Admittedly, the last sentence tempered her buzz some, but the blonde chose to ignore that and the cautious glances she caught Moonbyul sending her way from the corner of her eye.

“How much did you drink?” The senior laughed. The sound hitting Yongsun’s ears was foreign to her, not authentic. Seemed forced. “You’re making things up now.”

“She liked you!”

“I took her number in case I want another tattoo. That’s all.”

“Oh . . . that makes sense. Still, she was into you. Kisum thought the same thing.”

“Not interested,” Yongsun heard Byulyi respond immediately.

Having heard enough, and suddenly desperately needing to do **something** to mentally distance herself from what she’d heard, Yongsun shot up from the firm lap beneath her, nearly stumbling into the small living room table. Increasing the music’s volume a few notches, she searched the room for anything to distract her. Spotting Wheein returning from the bathroom, Yongsun hollered up over the music. “Wheein-ah, let’s dance!”

Taken aback at first, the third-year quickly recovered and joined her older friend in vibing to the hip-hop song running amuck throughout the apartment.

“You okay, unnie?”

“Yup.”

“Did you and Byul-unnie get into a fight in the 2 minutes it took me to go to the bathroom?”

“Nope.”

“Then why are you dancing with me so suddenly instead of all over her like you’ve been all night? And why is she on the couch eyeing you down?”

“I can’t dance with you? We’re friends. Friends dance.”

“Well . . . Byul-unnie’s coming walking over here, so you and I can dance later. I’m not getting involved in this.”

“Wheein-ah, don’t leave!”

It was too late, she’d already scampered away to join Hyejin, who was queuing the next song.

Sluggishly scrambling her brain for anything else that would allow space, Yongsun cursed the alcohol imbibed when long fingers gripped her hips from behind.

“Hey,” Moonbyul spoke into her neck. Yongsun didn’t answer.

This entire mess was the **alcohol’s** fault. If sobriety hadn’t left her, Yongsun would have more skillfully managed her irrational jealousy. There wasn’t even anything to **be** jealous about. Byul said she wasn’t interested in the tattoo artist. Also, and more importantly, Byulyi was **not** hers. Yongsun was making a nuisance of herself.

“I’m tired,” the athlete tried again.

“Then go to sleep.”

“I can’t. I’m sleeping at your place tonight, so I have to wait until you’re ready.”

Chuckling humorlessly, the older woman broke free of the hold on her, heading to the kitchen to busy herself with whatever could be used as a distraction. She should’ve expected the senior to follow.

“What’s funny?”

“You’re not sleeping at my place.”

“Wheein and Hyejin are gonna sleep in my room.”

“Your bed’s big enough for all three of you. Or you could sleep with Heeyeon.” She **knew** she was being petty, and, counterproductively, doing so in spite of her own self-interest. Nights with Moonbyul next to her were infinitely more enjoyable.

“I don’t want to sleep with Heeyeon, I want to sleep with you.”

Choking on her spit, Yongsun struggled with processing the words that so fluidly flowed from the younger woman’s mouth. She wondered if Moonbyul even knew what she just said.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“How am I ridiculous? We always sleep together.” Yongsun deflated slightly at the clarification.

Turning the blonde around, Moonbyul pressed closer, her hips and chest flush against Yongsun’s.

“You haven’t said anything about my tattoo yet,” the athlete lowered her voice and her head as she spoke directly into Yongsun’s ear. It traveled to between her legs.

“You’re drunk.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t said anything about my tattoo.”

“I already told you what I thought about your tattoo.”

“Not in person.”

“So? I have to repeat it?”

Moonbyul nodded, eyelids drooping.

It was **definitely** the alcohol, because Yongsun forgot that she was supposed to be irrationally jealous. Or upset? One of the two. She was supposed to be miffed with Byulyi for one reason or the other. But she forgot.

Instead, she resumed the game she and the woman in front of her had been playing all night: heavy flirting fueled by heavy intoxication.

Delicately tracing rings on the left side of Moonbyul’s neck, Yongsun took pleasure in the way the brunette’s breath hitched. Enjoyed the way her eyes fluttered shut. Relished in the grip on her hips that returned.

“It’s sexy.”

“Boo! Get a room! Ew! Unnies, stop. Please.” The chorus of displeasure rained down on Yongsun and Moonbyul, effectively popping their bubble of sensuality.

“Stop flirting,” someone shouted.

“We’re not flirting!” Yongsun shot back.

“I thought we were flirting,” Byul chuckled.

“Be quiet,” the blonde laughed back.

“For real, though, I’m exhausted. Can we go to sleep, please? I’ll borrow something of yours to sleep in.”

“Okay.”

That was the end of their night. None of the other three noticed when the pair slipped away, and the clothes Moonbyul was supposed to borrow ended up pointless. Within seconds of crossing the threshold of Yongsun’s bedroom, both—by the grace of powers above—successfully made it onto the bed, slumber visiting them immediately and washing away memories of the night.

*

_“Just dress comfortably.”_

That was all Byulyi had told Yongsun when asked about the dress code for their outing. Yongsun still had no idea where it was they’d be going or what it was they’d be doing, but it was Moonbyul’s birthday. She wouldn’t make a fuss today. Whatever her best friend wanted, her best friend would get, and, given how the younger woman bounced off the walls with excitement about whatever was planned for today, it seemed her best friend wanted today to go well. Yongsun made it her mission to ensure that happened.

Truth be told, Yongsun was also excited about the two of them spending the day together. For all that went on behind closed doors, she and Moonbyul didn’t hang out in public much. Unlike with her other friends, she and the athlete didn’t go to bars or clubs or cafes. They kind of, just … hung around their apartments. Eating and cuddling and talking. When framed that way, they sounded boring and stale. However, things **never** felt that way. Time with Byulyi was always healing, a panacea of sorts. If Yongsun felt tired, lounging in silence with her best friend instantly left her rejuvenated and enlivened. If sad, the time together lifted her spirits. Too hyper? A firm “Yongsun” grounded her. However, come time to explain their dynamic to others, the words melted on her tongue. She just couldn’t.

Yongsun figured people knew that they were close, but outside of the pair’s circle of friends, families, and teammates, it was likely the extent of their intimacy and closeness remained unknown to most. Honestly, even those closest to them didn’t know the details of her relationship with Byul, much preferring to write things off as “that’s just Yongsun and Byulyi. That’s how they are.” That approach, she supposed, **did** make it easier to deal with them—their incessant laughter one second and petty squabbles the next.

Anyway. Too much thinking for a Tuesday afternoon.

Tapping into the excitement bubbling up and spilling over, Yongsun focused on the only thing that mattered — she and her best friend would be together today. They’d get to be “them”, Yongsun and Byulyi, in public.

That, however, required clothes. Gently shaking her head clear, the scatterbrained young woman picked up her cell phone from its spot on the cluttered desk, intent on burrowing to the root of the issue that set her avalanche of thoughts into motion in the first place.

**To: Byul-ah**

When you say “dress comfortably” …

**From: Byul-ah**

🙄

Was waiting for this text.

We’re supposed to be leaving in 30 minutes.

**To: Byul-ah**

And we will.

Once you explain how comfortable you mean when you say “comfortable”.

**From: Byul-ah**

Wherever your mind goes when you hear “comfortable” is what I mean by comfortable. Be warm, too.

**To: Byul-ah**

This would be easier if you told me where we’re going! 😫

**From: Byul-ah**

Yongsun. Get dressed. I’ll be at your door in 27 minutes.

The admonishment landed with the weight of a boulder. This was no longer a matter up for debate—Byulyi wasn’t going to discuss things any further.

Ignoring the sudden spike in attraction resulting from Moonbyul’s authoritativeness, Yongsun heaved a sigh of distress and carelessly tossed the cellular device onto her bed before sifting through her drawers is search of **anything** to throw on. If they were heading somewhere fancy, Byulyi would’ve said so. As such, their destination must have been somewhere more casual. Fine.

Already showered, light makeup already applied, and hair already wave‑wanded and tousled, Yongsun hastily threw on a black, fitted turtleneck and tucked it into a pair of black, high-waisted jeans. This ensemble, she figured, would cover most bases.

Before she knew it, the door to Yongsun’s apartment creaked open.

“Yong! I gave you 5 extra minutes.” Byul’s voice echoed from the kitchen.

“I’m ready, I promise! Putting on my earrings, but that’s all,” she shouted back.

“I’m in the living room when you’re ready.”

A few extra pumps of perfume for good measure and her coat slipped on, the graduate student shuffled down the hall with her cross-body purse in hand, laughing out loud once taking in Moonbyul’s attire.

“We match!” Both sported long brown teddy coats.

Startled, the younger woman looked up from her phone and just . . . stared, and kept staring, tempering Yongsun’s initial excitement some and giving way to slight discomfort under the intense gaze. Clearing her throat, she headed to the shoe rack next to the door. It served two purposes—for starters, she needed shoes. More importantly, though, she needed to break the awkward moment Moonbyul had created.

“So,” she drawled while slipping on a pair of crisp, white sneakers, “do you want to finally tell me where we’re going?”

Byul seemed to finally snap out of her daze, responding with a playfulness inconceivable moments ago. “Not really.” Turning around, Yongsun saw the lopsided grin adorning the younger woman’s pretty lips. And there it was again, another surge of attraction threatening to distract her.

This had been happening more frequently, and with nothing in particular triggering her desire, it was something Yongsun had resigned herself to. For months now, she’d done well at controlling her crush. However, over the two weeks since Byulyi’s injury, that control—the ability to push her feelings to the side and refuse them the opportunity to derail things—waned. It grew more difficult to be around the athlete **all the time** and not **feel** for her. She was too funny, too sweet, and they got along too well. The younger woman’s most attractive qualities, however, were her consistency and reliability. From the beginning of their friendship to now, Moonbyul showed time and time again that she could be trusted to treat Yongsun well. And she did. Every moment spent together, the graduate student felt—for the first time in her life—that she could relax, that she didn’t have to do **everything** on her own and for herself, that she could simply **be**. Byulyi was a safety shawl, covering and protecting Yongsun at all times from the stress and worries of daily life.

It hurt not that Moonbyul was unbearably attractive and, recently, much more flirtatious. Adding Yongsun’s sexual frustration to the mix, this crush was maddening. It left her feeling helpless and out of control.

She hated it.

Determined to take an ounce of that control back, Yongsun continued the crusade to conceal her true feelings.

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re beautiful,” the younger woman responded in earnest.

That was unexpected.

“That’s why I was staring earlier. You look . . . amazing. Beautiful,” she tailed off at the end and averted her eyes shyly.

“Thank you,” Yongsun shyly accepted the compliment. “You look great, too, by the way.” Byul’s outfit was simple yet charming: cream cable-knit sweater, medium wash dad jeans, brown teddy coat, a mask, and, covering her head was her black Gucci cap. The hat, Byul had once mentioned, was reserved for special occasions. Today being her birthday, it made sense to Yongsun that she pulled it out.

Silence engulfed them after that. The older made a show of checking her bag for all necessities, while the younger fussed with her camera before slinging it across her body and leaving the couch to put her sneakers on.

Giving Byul space, Yongsun leaned on the kitchen island and aimlessly scrolled through Twitter. There was nothing of interest, but the escape from their weird interaction just now was much appreciated. It wasn’t weird bad, just . . . weird weird. Awkward.

A clearing of a throat pulled Yongsun from refreshing her timeline for the umpteenth time.

“Um, are you ready?” Byul asked softly.

“Yup. Ready when you are.”

“Cool. We can go. Uh, let me get the door for you.” Immediately after the words left her lips, the brunette rushed to grab onto the door handle, motioning for Yongsun to exit the apartment first.

A soft “thank you” was sent in Byulyi’s direction before the blonde scurried to and through the door. The awkward silence from earlier making its return, the young women walked to the elevator without exchanging a word. Their journey to the UV lobby occurred in silence. The walk to Byul’s car, silence. It became suffocating. The athlete wouldn’t look Yongsun’s way, but Yongsun observed her every action. Counted every neck rub, heard the sighs, grew curious about the silent conversation Byulyi was having with herself—evident by the rapid movement of her lips. Something was clearly not right.

“Hey,” she started as they reached the car in the parking lot. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely. Everything’s cool.”

“Okay. Wanted to make sure. It’s felt a little awkward since we were in the apartment, but I could be making that up. I’ve been in my head a bit.”

Byulyi hummed but said nothing. Deciding to leave her to her thoughts, Yongsun reached for the passenger-side door, but was suddenly cut off by the younger woman who seemed to have a thing for opening doors today. Normally, Yongsun would have made a joke about it, would have had some fun at Byulyi’s expense. Something about her best friend’s jitteriness advised her against it.

Once she was settled into her seat, Moonbyul closed the door for her. It granted to older woman a much-needed moment of solitude. Eyeing the athlete’s nervous steps as she ambled around the front of the vehicle to the driver’s side, Yongsun saw her, once again, mouthing words to herself, though this time it looked to be some type of pep talk.

Glancing at the cell phone in hand, Yongsun noticed the time. _2:20 pm_

Only 15 minutes had passed, each more uncomfortable than the one before. This wouldn’t do.

Finally entering the vehicle, Yongsun listened to another of her friend’s deep sighs before concluding that she’d let Byul use the entirety of the drive to rid herself of the excess nervous energy. Once they arrived at their destination, though, she’d set things right, once and for all.

*

“So, uh, here we are.”

“Byul-ah, you’re kidding me.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I’m not even talking about where we’ll be today, I’m talking about your delivery. You spent who knows how long planning this, and **that’s** how you announce it? ‘So, uh, here we are,’” Yongsun delivered an intentionally horrendous impression. It **did**, however, pull a small chuckle from the athlete, the day’s first.

“I don’t sound like that,” Byul rolled her eyes.

“You **do**. You’ve sounded like that all day,” she pouted and playfully slapped the taller woman’s arm. “There’s a lot to celebrate and be grateful for: it’s your birthday, you’re walking around without crutches, we’re spending time together. Can we please enjoy this? I’ve never been here and am excited to see what it’s all about.”

Brown eyes met and held brown eyes, ignoring the people buzzing around them.

“Okay, yeah,” Byulyi nodded.

“Thank you. So,” she realized the ever-growing line along the front of the building, “did you buy tickets or should we get on line?”

“I should’ve bought tickets ahead of time,” the younger woman muttered while scrubbing her face. Another gush of air was forcefully expelled from her nose before Byulyi spoke to Yongsun. “I didn’t pre-purchase tickets. Didn’t think it would be this busy on a Tuesday afternoon, but **clearly**, I was wrong.”

“So the answer to my question is that we should get in line. Okay! Let’s go.”

Grabbing hold of Byul’s hand, Yongsun purposely ignored the athlete’s self-chastising words and led the two of them to the back of the line.

The drive from University Village lasted no more than 20 minutes. Once Yongsun blocked out the frantic energy coming from the driver on her left, her focus shifted to figuring out what the plan was. Had Byulyi been dropping clues since first insisting they spend her birthday together? Was it somewhere she, Yongsun, had expressed wanting to visit? Did anyone else in their lives mention anything hinting at the agenda for the day? Digging deeper into the recesses of her mind served to only further stump her. Yongsun had no idea where Moonbyul sped towards.

Then they arrived.

A hearty laugh nearly escaped the graduate student’s throat.

All that time was spent anguishing over where they’d go, only to be met with one of the places she would’ve never guessed because she hadn’t heard of it before.

According to the impromptu Naver search Yongsun did, Trick Eye Museum was an optical illusion museum ripe with opportunities at every corner for mind-bending photos.

While not much of a photo person, the reviews online left the blonde surprisingly excited to take several. Commenters left nothing but glowing reviews about the one-of-a-kind museum, fueling Yongsun’s desire to play today. If things were up to her, she and Byul would be their goofy selves, indulging their inner children and living their best carefree lives. That’s what she wanted for herself. That’s what she wanted for Byulyi.

“Hey!”

“Yeah?” Moonbyul regarded her, features conveying confusion at Yongsun’s sudden chipperness. Minutes had passed since joining the line, neither saying much.

“Let’s set some rules for today.”

“Rules?” The question came with the arch of an eyebrow.

“Yes, rules. I don’t know what’s had you so stressed out today, but we’re here to have fun. To make sure that happens, I have rules. Do you accept?”

“Do I accept that you **have** rules, or do I accept the rules? Because I have questions about all of this.”

“Allowed.”

Shaking her head gently with a soft smile, Moonbyul, to Yongsun’s relief, played along. “What’s the punishment if one of us breaks your ‘rules’?”

“There is no punishment because breaking the rules isn’t an option. You have to follow all of the rules.” Yongsun spoke matter-of-factly.

“But what if I don’t?”

“You have to.”

“Okay. But what if I don’t?”

“You’re doing this on purpose. Stop being annoying.”

“I’m not being annoying,” the brunette chuckled, taking a few steps forward as the line was moving. “What if I don’t mind the punishment? Then I can break the rules, accept my fate, and be done with it.”

“You can’t do that!”

A few heads turned at Yongsun’s outburst, feeding Moonbyul’s fit of giggles.

“This is what I get for trying to make you feel better. You’re an ass.” Her ears warmed from the embarrassment, but no escape was present. They were in line—she couldn’t go anywhere. If anything, that entrapment further fueled Yongsun’s indignation.

“I was joking. Yong. I was joking.”

Arms crossed, eyes trained forward, Yongsun ignored the athlete’s words.

“Yong.” A slender finger jabbed into her side. “Yong. You’re going to ignore me now? I can poke you forever. You know that, right? I won’t get tired.”

“Leave me alone. You got me embarrassed in front of all these people, when what I **should’ve **done was minded my business and let you be moody.”

Focusing on the back of the head directly in front of her, and grateful that the poking stopped momentarily, Yongsun ignored the gaze burning a hole into her left cheek.

“Hey. I’m sorry. Come here.”

Left no time to react, Yongsun was whisked in front of Byulyi, her back pulled to the younger woman’s chest, with long arms wrapped loosely around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” the athlete spoke directly into her right ear. “What’s the first rule?”

“I’m not telling you. Game’s over.”

“No,” the brunette whined. “Come on, just tell me the first rule.”

Yongsun stayed quiet, enough time passing that Moonbyul loosened her hold and let her free.

“The first rule is that we have to follow all the rules,” she grudgingly disclosed. And, ugh, it sickened her some the happiness experienced from watching Byul’s radiant smile take over her face.

“Got it. What else?” She hastily accepted.

“We have to have **fun **today. Real fun. We can’t worry about looking silly in front of others. That doesn’t matter today. Today is about you and your happiness.”

“We never worry about looking silly in front of others.”

“Then that’ll be an easy one to follow. The next one—we leave everything at the door. Once we enter the museum, anything else that’s stressing us out, we put it away for another time. No bad news or negativity. Nothing that can bring down the mood. Okay?”

For whatever reason, Yongsun observed the taller woman hesitate upon hearing this. With the previous rules, her agreement came immediately. Not this time.

After a few beats, Byul nodded in agreement. “Okay. No bringing down the mood. Anything else before we enter? We’re almost at the front.”

“Oh! Only I can add new rules, and I can do so whenever I please and as often as I see fit. Agreed?”

“Thought today was supposed to be about me,” Moonbyul sarcastically mused. “But yeah, sure. Agreed.”

“Perfect,” Yongsun excitedly.

“We’re next to go in. Let’s take our first picture. A selca. Come.”

Obediently, Yongsun entered the open arms awaiting her, assuming the same back-to-front, arms-around-shoulders position she and Byulyi were in minutes ago.

“Smile on 3,” the taller woman coolly instructed. “1, . . . 2, . . . 3.”

“Let me see!”

“It was a video.”

Stepping into the vestibule and walking up to the clerk, Byulyi ignored Yongsun’s whining over being deceived, purchasing tickets for them both.

“Okay, it was a joke. Let’s take a proper picture now.”

For the third time that afternoon, Yongsun sank into her best friend’s arms, smiling her biggest, most sincere smile.

“It’s perfect,” Byul held her cell phone out for Yongsun to inspect.

“Why are you looking at me in this picture instead of the camera?”

“Reasons.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And you’re the best. Thanks for going to such great lengths to get me out of my head today. I needed that more than you probably realized.”

Turning to face her properly, Yongsun held the younger woman’s face in her hands—Moonbyul had good enough sense to lower head enough to make it comfortably possible. “Anything for you. You should know that by now. Happy birthday, Byul-ah.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, let’s see what this place is all about. Have you been before?” Yongsun ascended the stairs to next level, left hand clasped around Byulyi’s right.

“Nope. I’ve heard of it before but never came here. Figured it would be something we could enjoy together.”

“You figured right.”

“Good,” Byul smiled and spoke softly.

“Good,” Yongsun repeated.

*

“Let me see! Let me see!” Yongsun eagerly hopped up from the seat next to the dragon painting to clutch onto Byulyi.

“It’s hilarious,” the younger woman laughed uncontrollably. “You were burned to death, but it’s so much funnier because you’re smiling the whole time and don’t even know what’s going on.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” She slapped at the athlete’s firm shoulder.

“It’s better like this. Makes it more entertaining.”

The museum had its own app that, when opened and focused on an installation, added effects not visible via regular cameras. It was why Yongsun and Moonbyul had been at Trick Eye for over an hour, yet only made their way through half of the museum’s exhibits.

Really, it was Yongsun’s fault. Byul was content with posing for one regular picture and one augmented reality (AR) picture or video, but Yongsun was incapable of being that efficient. Swept up in “the experience”, the blonde insisted on Byulyi taking the “right” picture with her digital camera, the “right” picture with the Trick Eye app, and the “right” video with the app. If one didn’t live up to her expectations or didn’t quite “work”, the graduate student would scurry back to her position and pose again while Moonbyul dutifully switched back and forth between devices. Yongsun knew she was being overbearing but as someone that rarely took pictures, passing up this opportunity was not an option. It helped a lot that Byulyi never argued or showed signs of impatience. Instead, the athlete supported the antics, encouragingly and enthusiastically offering oohs and ahhs, while also suggesting poses Yongsun should consider and shots that should be redone.

“You think it’s good like this?”

“Yeah. It’s funny. You had the other one that you looked really cute in, so this one is a good ‘fun’ alternative.” She noticed that everything she did today, Byulyi found “cute”. That word had been thrown around often.

“Was it really ‘cute’? You’ve been calling everything cute. Starting think you’re just saying it to say it.”

Despite the slight blush, Byul kept her eyes on the video playing on her cell phone screen and responded, “Because you’ve been really cute today.” She added a small shrug as an afterthought.

“Ohhh, you think I’m cute?” Yongsun taunted. It was refreshing seeing the flustered side of her best friend. When around Yonsgun, the ladykiller took a break, allowing the gentle, sweet, and shy Byulyi to make an appearance.

“Yeah, I do,” Moonbyul looked up from her phone and directly at Yongsun.

Maybe Yongsun spoke too soon. The way the younger woman delivered that—eyes and voice not wavering—, and the way the blonde’s body responded immediately, yeah . . . maybe a bit of the ladykiller was making a surprise appearance.

Clearing her throat, Byul broke the atmosphere first. Yongsun doubted she would have been able to do it, having been **so** captivated by the athlete just now.

“Let’s go see the rest of the place. There are a couple other parts of the museum I want to make sure we get to.”

“Okay,” Yongsun breathed.

And that was that. They took their time stopping at each art installation, taking individual photos, but not ashamed to stop and ask strangers to take photos of them together.

It was one of the most peaceful experiences to date that Yongsun could recall. Being with Moonbyul was always easy, but there was just **something** extra about today that made it perfect. Maybe it was the discreet hand holding, the extra hugs, or the decreased space between them. Maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever it was, Yongsun was grateful for it.

*

An hour and a half later, the pair had explored every nook and cranny of the museum, including the virtual reality game room, the mirror maze—where Yongsun had, more than once, walked into mirrored walls—and, against the graduate student’s pleas, the horror room.

“Two more things we need to do,” Moonbyul announced.

“We’ve done everything.”

“Obviously we haven’t, Yong, because I just said there are two more things we need to do,” the younger rolled her eyes.

“I’m getting tired.” It was embarrassing, but it was true. Almost 3 hours full of picture taking took more of a toll on her than initially anticipated.

“I understand, granny. We should be out of here in the next 30-45 minutes, I think.”

“It is literally your birthday today. **You** are a year older.”

“If I get older, that means you get older. Funny how that works, huh?”

“Who would’ve thought the nervous, bumbling mess from earlier that couldn’t stop talking to herself and rubbing her neck would be this cocky and full of herself a few hours later?”

“It’s because the beautiful woman spending the day with her made her feel at ease and comfortable enough to relax and have fun.”

“Shut up,” Yongsun rolled her eyes, words belying the intense arousal building internally.

“You’re right. I was supposed to keep that a secret,” the athlete pulled her into a one-armed side hug. “The Ice Museum isn’t as big as the rest of Trick Eye’s been, so it won’t take long. Let’s go.”

“Ice Museum?!”

“Yeah, that’s why I told you to dress warmly. There’s real ice in there.”

“How does this place have all of this, yet I’ve never heard of it before?”

“That’s why I’m here. To introduce you to new places.”

“I like the sound of that. You driving me places and paying for everything. My own personal chauffer and ATM machine. I’ve earned it.”

“You know what you’ve earned? The right to walk home. Have fun with that,” Byul tried physically ridding herself of Yongsun, but the older woman held on tighter to the athlete’s waist.

“Oh my goodness, you’re such a baby! How are you so soft and sensitive,” she chuckled heartily at the taller woman’s expense.

Continuing to walk and talk, banter never subsiding, the teddy coat duo made their way to the much-anticipated ice room.

*

As Byulyi said, the ice room was not as big, and, even with the cold, it ended up as Yongsun’s favorite part of the day. **Everything** was made of ice. Lights were installed beneath the surface of each ice sculpture, hues of blue, green, and red dancing throughout the room, adding to the charm of things. Beautiful didn’t do the space justice.

There were thrones, mini-castles, and a mini-igloo, but the object of Yongsun’s attention was the ice slide. Impossible to miss, the structure’s height and length resembled a kiddie’s slide more than anything else, but it was a slide made of **ice**. How could Yongsun **not** enjoy it?

As with the rest of the day, Byul indulged all of Yongsun’s requests, including repeatedly gliding down the ice slide—it took up the bulk of their time in the Ice Museum. Only **after**, however, Yongsun made sure her ankle wouldn’t be affected by the activity. They rode it separately until Byulyi insisted that they go down together. On the outside, Yongsun made some comment about the younger woman being “clingy” and “ridiculous”, yet her insides danced with joy when perched in Moonbyul’s lap with the athlete’s arms holding her securely.

Neither said anything more on it, silently agreeing the topic wouldn’t be addressed out loud.

It was cute.

They were now on their way out, though, a long day behind them. Making strides towards the exit, a soft gasp escaped the graduate student’s lips as a sudden, but gentle, grip on her wrist pulled her to the right.

“Wait, one last thing before we go.”

“What?”

“They have face coffees. We should get a couple.”

“What’s a face coffee?”

“We give them a picture and they put it on the plastic lids covering the drinks. Was thinking we could choose some from the pictures we took today.”

“It’s your day, so you should choose the pictures. And we should keep them! As a memento.”

“That’s a big responsibility,” the brunette joked, already scrolling through her phone for pictures.

“I trust you,” Yongsun looked on affectionately.

“Oh yeah?” Byul’s smirked, thumbs still scrolling.

“Yeah.”

“How much?”

“Hmm,” the graduate student pretended to think about it, “not much, honestly.”

“I can’t stand you,” Moonbyul groaned cutely.

“Lie again.”

“I had the worst time today.”

“Lie again,” Yongsun smiled.

“You’re the worst person ever.”

“Again,” Yongsun commanded softly.

“I can’t wait for this to end,” Byulyi smiled.

Mushing the taller woman’s face playfully, Yongsun put a momentary end to their nonsense. “Please hurry up, ma’am. I still have your gift at home to give you.”

*

The drive home was the complete opposite of the journey to Trick Eye. Focused on the road, Byulyi gave Yongsun complete control over the music, an opportunity the blonde woman took to play nothing but rap. Zooming through the streets of Seoul, she screamed memorized lyrics at the top of her lungs while flashing meaningless hand gestures, all while Moonbyul shook her head in amusement.

She hadn’t been too much of a nuisance and, thankfully, they made it home in one piece. All was well.

Inputting the code to her apartment, Yongsun caught a fright at unexpectedly coming face-to-face with Chorong, who, by the looks of things, was searching the refrigerator.

“You scared me!”

“You’ve seen my bare face before. Don’t be rude.”

“You know what I meant,” she laughed. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Stop being a smartass. I thought you were leaving to see your family today?”

“Insoo wanted to spend some time together before the holidays. We’re getting dinner tonight and then he’s driving me home tomorrow.”

The roommates gushed over that, both excited about how serious things between Chorong and Insoo were getting.

“Oh! Have you heard of the Trick Eye Museum? It’s in Hongdae. Byul and I just got back from there. It was so fun!”

It was the first time Chorong noticed the room’s third occupant.

“I’ve heard of it before. What was the occasion?”

“It’s Byulyi’s birthday.”

“Oh. Happy birthday,” Chorong said quickly without even sparing Byul a glance.

“Thanks,” the youngest in the room softly accepted.

“Anyway, let me know if you need me for anything. We’ll be in my room,” Yongsun spoke up.

“I’m sure you will be,” she saw Chorong smirk before sticking a head back into the fridge.

*

“The two of you are practically best friends now,” Yongsun joked after she and Moonbyul settled in her bedroom.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“I’m just saying, that was the most courteous the two of you have been towards each other.”

“Yikes.”

“I feel it. Tides are turning.”

“Whatever you’re feeling, you may want to get it checked,” Byul smiled.

Yongsun stuck her tongue out, emerging from the bathroom with sweats, hair in a topknot, and her face scrubbed clean. Shuffling to her closet, she made a show of walking over to where Byulyi sat at the desk.

“Is that my sweatshirt?”

“No.”

“It says my name on it.”

“Shh! That’s not the point right now. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for.”

“And that is?”

“Gift time!”

“Yong. You didn’t have to get me a gift on top of everything else.”

“New rule, you have to accept my gift without a fuss.”

“We’re not at the museum anymore. Your rules don’t apply.”

“I’m making my rules apply,” she stalked closer, coming to a stop between Moonbyul’s legs, the giftbag still hidden behind her back.

Neither moved for moments, the only audible sound that of the athlete’s ragged breath.

“Okay. Make your rule,” she conceded, voice suddenly husky.

“You have to accept my gift without a fuss,” Yongsun repeated, voice barely above a whisper. Byul simply nodded. “Okay. Here.”

Taking a few steps back, Yongsun gave the senior space to seek out the bag’s contents. The reaction when she fished the item out was muted, leaving Yongsun waiting with bated breath for any indication of how Byulyi felt about it.

“Yong.”

“Do you like it?” She asked nervously.

“Yong,” Byul looked up, the silver bracelet glistening in her hands.

“Do you like it?”

“Come here,” Byul stood up to wrap Yongsun into a tight embrace. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered into the crook of the shorter woman’s neck.

“That means you like it, right?” The gift, Yongsun thought, didn’t warrant this effusive of a reaction, but she’d take it.

The decision was made a month ago to buy Moonbyul a bracelet. Although now she didn’t remember why exactly it was the gift she settled on, Yongsun remembered being excited about going through with the idea. Undoubtedly, the most challenging part of the process was deciding on an inscription but, judging by Byulyi’s reaction, the “Our shining star” engraved on the silver ID bracelet wasn’t too cliché or cringey.

“I love it. This is . . . wow. You’re amazing. And that’s a gross understatement.”

“Didn’t know you’d like it this much.”

“Well, yeah. It’s not only the bracelet, though. Just in general, you do a lot and I want you to know that I appreciate you. From the bottom of my heart.”

“You’re welcome.” Was that even an adequate or appropriate response in a moment like this? Yongsun didn’t know. “So,” she cleared her throat, “I was thinking we order your favorite food tonight and just hang out?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll go drop this off at my place and change.”

“Okay. There’s a card in the bag, too, but don’t read it now. That would be weird.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back.”

The moment she heard the apartment door close, Yongsun got a running start to jump onto her bed. Thrusting her face into her pillow, she let out a scream, deeming it necessary to expel the various emotions floating within.

What was happening? Their flirting reached a new peak today and the graduate student couldn’t deal.

Sheets vibrating, Yongsun fished her cell phone out, groaning in frustration at the message awaiting her.

**From: Rongie**

She left already?

Thought the two of you would spend more time together after your date.

**To: Rongie**

She’s coming back.

And it wasn’t a date. Things aren’t like that with us.

**From: Rongie**

She looks at you like things are like that 🌚

And you look at her like things are like that 🌚

**To: Rongie**

You don’t even like her, now you’re talking about us dating?

**From: Rongie**

I’m stating facts. She likes you.

Fact: You like her—don’t even waste time denying it.

Fact: It’s uncomfortable af being around the two of you.

Fact: You for sure went on a date today.

**To: Rongie**

😖

**From: Rongie**

😂

What was there to say to that? She liked Byulyi. It began to feel more and more like Byulyi liked her. The assertion, though, that their outing earlier was a date. It threw Yongsun for a loop. Had it been a date?

Before spiraling into a mini-freakout over everything, Yongsun stopped herself.

“Rule #3: Nothing that can bring down the mood.” She mumbled to herself, taking some calming breaths. When Moonbyul re-entered the apartment a few minutes later, Yongsun reminded herself one last time before sliding over and freeing up the younger woman’s side of the bed.

Nothing that can bring down the mood.

*

“You know, I had plans for today but had to change them because of your injury.”

Well-fed and content with riding out the last few hours of Byul’s birthday in bed, the two women lay next to each other watching a movie when the urge to get that off her chest overtook Yongsun.

“Oh yeah? What did you have planned?”

“Was looking into a snowboarding resort. Thought you’d enjoy that. We did a mini-version of that today though, so it worked out.”

“I suppose it did.”

“There’s always next year. We can do it next year. We’d have to work around your game schedule, but I think we could fit it in. Right?”

No response came.

Yongsun removed her eyes from the television screen across the room to check if Moonbyul had fallen asleep. Or maybe she hadn’t heard her?

“Earth to Byulyi! I said we could figure it out next year, right?”

“Mmm.”

“Is that a ‘mmm, yes’?”

“It’s a ‘mmm, how to answer this question when the response is in direct violation of Rule #3?’” She followed that with a deep sigh.

Worry consumed Yongsun. “Is everything okay?”

“Can we talk about it tomorrow, Yong? Today has been good to us. I don’t to mess that up.”

“That sounds ominous, but okay.” Letting a few breaths pass, she tried to strike up conversation again. “How was your meeting yesterday?”

With WKBL teams interested in her, Byulyi accepted invitations to meet with officials from each team. One of the meetings took place yesterday and she had another one tomorrow.

“They were cool. Got a tour of their facilities. Since I’m still not cleared to play, I couldn’t do any training sessions with them, but I met with the head coaches for each team and we did film sessions. Mainly me talking them through SNU and National Team games, explaining what I saw and why I made the decisions I did. The idea was nerve-racking at first, but each organization did their best to welcome me. It was cool.”

“Still can’t believe you’re going to be a big-time professional basketball player. It’s getting real!” This was Byul’s path, but Yongsun couldn’t help but bee excited at things solidifying for her best friend.

“Can’t believe it either.”

“I’m going to be at every game possible. Even if I don’t know what type of job I’ll have, I’m already guaranteeing that I’ll be at your games.”

“You know what job you’ll have. The Center is making it very clear they’re going to extend an offer.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You’re so negative.”

“Says the person nearly completely unenthused about becoming a professional athlete!”

“I’m not unenthused. It’s just . . . complicated.”

“And you don’t want to discuss the complication.”

“Not today.”

“Okay. I won’t push then.”

“Thank you.”

That was the last Yongsun mentioned becoming a professional athlete for the evening. There was something around the topic that created static. Today was supposed to be static-free.

Tucking the conversation away for another day, Yongsun curled up to Byul, appreciating the way the athlete held her close. For today, that was enough.

*

**Group Message: Wheein-ah, Hyejin-ah**

**Wheein**

How was last night, unnie?

**Hyejin-ah**

**👀**

**New Message From: Rongie**

How did last night turn out?

**New Message From: Eric**

Last night?

**New Message Taecyeon**

So . . . last night?

**Missed Call From: Yonghee-unnie**

Bless Yonghee for being the only person not in Yongsun’s phone asking questions about Byulyi.

The athlete left for her own apartment after 8 am to prepare for the meeting later with officials from KB Stars. It disrupted Yongsun’s sleep for a bit as she got up to see Byulyi off, but she fell back asleep soon after. Before she knew it, though, it was after 2 pm. She woke up to the barrage of messages looking for details about the day before.

Yonghee rarely reached out first, so Yongsun decided to check in with her before acknowledging the other messages. The Nosy Nancys could wait.

“Unnie.”

“You sound disgusting.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you. You called. What’s up?”

“Mom was asking me when you were coming home for the holidays because you never told her, so I called to ask you because I didn’t know either.”

“Mmm. Tomorrow.”

“Are you still sleeping? It’s the afternoon, Yongsun.”

“Classes are over, I have off from work, let me enjoy sleeping in.”

“Whatever. How’s Moonbyul? Can she walk again?”

“Huh? Who said she couldn’t walk?”

“I have no idea what happened to her, but mom kept talking about it and she made it sound like the most dramatic thing ever. I assumed she was severely injured?”

“It was her ankle. It’s better. She can walk,” Yongsun let out a gravelly chuckle.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’m gonna hang up now. Literally only needed to know when you’d be going home.”

“The sisterly love. It’s overwhelming.”

“You hate when people pester you, you’re half asleep, and I have nothing else to say. Why drag it out, y’know?”

“That’s fair.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t sleep the day away.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, and okay, I won’t.”

She was absolutely going to sleep the day away.

Gearing up to do just that, Yongsun’s phone buzzed once more:

**From: Byul-ah**

You up?

**To: Byul-ah**

Barely.

**From: Byul-ah**

Heading back to UV. Can I come over in around 1 hour?

**To: Byul-ah**

Sure. I’ll go shower now.

**From: Byul-ah**

Cool. See you a little later.

So much for sleeping the day away.

Getting it out now because there’d be no time for it later, Yongsun rolled over and groaned into her pillow.

*

An hour later, Yongsun had washed the tired away and was fully alert. Making the most of the empty apartment, the blonde trekked to the living room, propping her feet up on the small table and enjoying a movie.

When a gentle knock echoed through the room, she muted the television and headed to the door.

“Byulyi. Why are you knocking? You could’ve just come in.”

“Can we talk?”

There it was. That same ominous tone that made a brief appearance the night before.

“Sure. Come in,” Yongsun moved aside, granting the brunette ample space to enter the apartment.

As the younger woman got settled on the couch, Yongsun remained in the kitchen.

“Do you want tea or water or anything?”

“I’m good.”

“Okay,” she replied. Byulyi’s behavior was making her nervous. Pushing it aside, the graduate student walked over and plopped down beside the athlete. “How was the meeting?”

“It was . . . uh, it was good,” the younger woman sighed.

“Byul-ah, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

It took three clearings of her throat before Byul spoke up. “It’s nothing bad. Well, not really. It’s **good** news, but there are many things that will be affected, so . . . yeah.”

“If it’s good news, then you should share it. Just . . . put it out there and let everything else fall where they need to.”

Still, the young woman said nothing.

“Byul-ah,” Yongsun placed what she hoped was a calming hand on the athlete’s bouncing knee, “just say it.”

The room was completely silent. Having muted the television earlier, Yongsun only heard her inner thoughts bouncing around and devising worst-case scenarios.

“I’ve been meeting with WKBL teams. You already knew that.”

“Mmhmm,” Yongsun confirmed, hoping the verbal confirmation would encourage Byulyi to continue.

“It’s been fun, a good experience. After the meeting I had on Monday, I got a call from an unfamiliar number. It was the coach from Fenerbahçe, the team in Turkey that showed interest. I was shocked at first because I didn’t expect that. Thought all communication with them would go through my agent. But . . . yeah. Anyway, we talked for a long time. Hours. About everything. Life, how school was going, what I wanted my future to look like. He didn’t even mention basketball until hours into the conversation. It was **that** good of a talk. There were some questions I had after the meeting with Baek Sungho, my dad, and Coach Do, so instead of waiting for the next meeting, I just asked him outright. Questions about their philosophy, the culture of the organization, their style of play, how I would fit into all of that. He answered every question and pretty much confirmed what Sungho had said—he thinks I’m a great player and that I would fit well at Fenerbahçe. He’s one of the best coaches in the world, so to hear him say that, it meant a lot. We didn’t talk numbers or anything like that, all of that had been discussed during the agent-meeting. It was more a conversation about me, what I want, and what I’d need to accomplish my goals. The conversation has been haunting me since Monday. But, like, in a good way? It made me play back the meeting with the WKBL team I had on Monday and . . . I felt better about Fenerbahçe. Up until then, I was 90% sure that I’d be staying in Korea. After the phone call, it went down to 60%. Today’s meeting with KB Stars was the one I was most excited about. They’re the team I felt the best fit with, so, going into it, I knew that if I felt good there, I’d stay, and if I didn’t, it would most likely end up being Fenerbahçe. Which, I know, is a lot of pressure to put on one team, and I haven’t met with every WKBL team yet, so there’s a chance someone might surprise me, but I **know** these teams. I follow basketball globally, but I **know** the teams here inside and out. KB Stars was the one. They’re on the rise. Great facilities. Good structure. They were **it.**”

Struggling to find her voice, Yongsun croaked, “You said it went well? The meeting with KB Stars?”

“It did. All things considered, it was really good. But . . . Fenerbahçe seems better. I asked KB Stars officials the exact same questions I asked the coach from Fenerbahçe and the conversation was good, but the conversation with Fenerbahçe was better. It seems like the better choice. It **feels** like Fenerbahçe is the better choice.”

There it was.

From the moment Moonbyul began stressing how free-flowing the conversation with the coach from the Turkish club was, a bad feeling settled in Yongsun’s stomach.

“And, again, I’m still going to meet with the other WKBL teams. Nothing is set in stone, but, I don’t know. Fenerbahçe set the bar high. Everything with them is clicking.”

Vision growing blurred from unshed tears, Yongsun expended an inordinate amount of energy towards not speaking, not blinking, not moving. If she did any of the three, the liquid hugging her eyes would fall and they wouldn’t stop.

“Say something. Please,” the athlete whispered, making eye contact for the first time since she began speaking.

That broke the dam. Liquid caressed her skin, streaming down her face at will. And still, Yongsun battled internally to collect herself. This was clearly something that had been hovering over the younger woman, something she’d been in deep thought about. Byulyi wanted someone to tell her that going abroad was the right decision. She wanted Yongsun to be that someone. So Yongsun would be that someone.

Pushing past the tears that continued falling, and ignoring the way her voice broke, the graduate student gave her best friend the reassurance she so desperately sought.

“I think you should trust your gut. If Fenerbahçe feels like the right choice, it’s the right choice.”

“Yong,” Moonbyul whispered, no doubt in response to the mess of a face she was being subjected to. Yongsun looked away.

She couldn’t watch the woman across from her, otherwise she’d break down. And that, too, made Yongsun feel like shit. Because this wasn’t about her. It was about Byulyi’s best interest.

“Ignore me. I’m being so dramatic,” she tried to joke while aggressively wiping the tears away.

“Yong.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. This is about you! Oh my goodness! You’re going to be a big-time international star. I already know it.” By the end of that sentence, it fully hit her—Byulyi was leaving.

Her best friend, the one person she could go to for any and every thing, wouldn’t be here forever like she once thought. Despite her efforts, Yongsun’s body shook from the sobs that violently tore through her. The once silent apartment was now an echo chamber for her heartache. It was embarrassing. The more she reminded herself that this wasn’t about her, the more Yongsun lost control over herself, over the sounds escaping her. In a futile attempt to hide, she lifted both hands to cover her face.

“Yongsun. Don’t cry,” Byul pulled her into her arms, delicately holding Yongsun’s face against her chest. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

“I’m the worst! This is not about me. This is **good** news! I should be happy. **We** should be happy. This is **good**.”

“It’s good, yeah,” the deep voice soothingly reassured her. “Still, it’s hard.”

“You’re leaving,” Yongsun’s voice cracked again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Who knows how long passed for them. They sat together, Yongsun in Moonbyul’s lap crying uncontrollably, Moonbyul rocking her and Yongsun back and forth while stroking the mass of blonde hair settled against her chest.

She thought they had time. That’s what Yongsun had told herself only last week, that she’d have time to sort her feelings out.

It seemed like time was up.

Finally collecting some semblance of control, Yongsun sat up. “You know what? It’s for the best. You’re too big to stay in Korea. I truly believe that, Byul-ah. You’re a **star**. Isn’t that funny? Your name has ‘star’ in it, and that’s exactly what you’ve become. A star. Korea’s too small for you. You wouldn’t grow the way you’re supposed to if you stay. Turkey has new challenges, I’m sure of it. You can grow there. You can try new things. Everything that you can do here, you can do there.”

“That’s not true. Don’t say that.” Byulyi’s voice sounded gruff to Yongsun’s ears. Ignoring the athlete’s protests, she continued.

“I don’t expect you to say it out loud, but you know it’s true. You can probably do everything over there.”

“That’s **not** true,” the younger’s breath grew erratic.

“What do we have here in Korea that you can’t do in Turkey, Byul? Whatever you want, you can do over there. They have everything we have. You can do it a–”

It was surreal. In an instant, her words were cut short by lips crashing to hers. A firm grip on her neck held her in place, otherwise the shock of what was happening would’ve taken Yongsun out.

Rephrasing: the shock of what **happened** would’ve taken Yongsun out, because just as quickly as the kiss started, it ended. Leaving her stunned and immobile.

“I can’t do **that** in Turkey. They don’t have **you**.”

There was something to be said about the fact that, for all of the tension built up over the past couple weeks—months, really—the force that ultimately pulled them together was the threat of them being pulled apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was long as shit. My goodness.
> 
> Before we all agree to pretend that me missing an update last week didn’t happen, I’d like to sincerely thank you all for the comments of support. As you can see, by all that happened in this chapter, I couldn’t split things up, so I had to push through and write it all before posting. But, yay! It’s posted. Hope you all enjoy. If you have thoughts, leave comments. If you don’t have thoughts, leave comments lol.
> 
> I’m talking out of my ass now because I think this was the longest chapter written thus far. It’s robbed me of the ability to formulate words.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Welcome to all new readers. To returning readers, we made it! Who would’ve thunk it? We finally made it! Imagine if the story ended right here? That would’ve been top-tier.


	39. The Wrong Message. Kind Of.

_“I can’t do **that** in Turkey. They don’t have **you**.”_

It was only the week before that time was devoted towards thinking through the hypothetical: what would she do if Moonbyul confessed?

At the time, the thought induced a low level of mental distress. At the time, the possibility of that happening was still some time away, Yongsun thought, wrapped neatly and pushed to the recesses of her mind. There was slight concern then, her heart leaping out of her chest in fear for one second at having to consider what exactly she’d do when the feelings dancing between her and Byulyi were laid bare before her. And then she calmed down, reminding herself that Moonbyul confessing was a far-off possibility. It wasn’t something to fret over, she’d have time to worry about it.

How silly of her. Yongsun remembered the rest of that day, too—she flirted with Byulyi and she flirted with Seungyeon. Just because.

Foolish.

If she had taken the thought a bit more seriously, she wouldn’t be stuck as she was now, sitting in Moonbyul’s lap, face tear-streaked and irritated from the unbearably embarrassing outburst that had taken place moments ago. As for the kiss that ended only seconds ago, Yongsun’s heart stood lodged in her throat, rendering the graduate student physically incapable of saying anything. The flurry of emotions over the past 5 minutes were too much to even begin processing.

Moonbyul took the silence as an invitation to say more, the tremble in her voice a stark difference from the boldness displayed not even a minute ago.

“Um. Yeah.” The athlete cleared her throat several times before continuing, her hands now at her sides, no longer framing Yongsun’s hip and neck. “I guess now’s as good of a time as any to say this. I like you. And I wanted to do this differently, wanted it to happen properly, maybe over a nice dinner or something, I don’t know. Not like this, though. But . . . yeah.” A small shrug punctuated her sentence.

Yongsun had her suspicions, but it was different hearing the words fall from **those** lips.

“Wow,” she brilliantly responded. As she did so, the older woman removed herself from Moonbyul’s lap. Whatever conversation was about to take place would likely be best had with both women occupying their own separate seat cushions.

“Is that a good ‘wow’?” The uncertainty in the younger woman’s voice made Yongsun’s heart clench. This was messy.

“It’s a ‘I just learned moments ago that one of the most important people in my life is likely leaving the country and now that same person is confessing’ wow.”

“So . . . it’s not a bad ‘wow’ is what I’m hearing?” The Moonbyul joked, lips curved into a tentative, nervous smile. It didn’t look right on her face, Yongsun decided. Worry was the last emotion Byulyi should have been experiencing, and Yongsun hated even more that she was the one causing it.

Reaching a hand out, the graduate student caressed the soft, smooth skin along Moonbyul’s cheek. As her thumb gently rubbed the younger woman’s face, Yongsun smiled adoringly as the soft brown eyes across from her fluttered closed, a sigh of contentment rushing past Byulyi’s lips. Past **those** lips. Lips that not long ago were attached to her own, even if only briefly. As Byul relished in the feel of Yongsun’s hand on her—going so far as holding the blonde’s wrist in place with a hand of her own—Yongsun stared at those lips. The kiss was so short, over before comprehension had the opportunity to settle in. Yongsun wanted a proper one.

“Yong,” Byul rasped. Eyes glued to the athlete’s lips, Yongsun read the words on her lips before hearing them. Knowing she was caught, the older woman took her time inspecting the lips that she so badly wanted pressed against her own once again. “Yong,” Moonbyul desperately called for her again.

Shooting her eyes up to meet the other’s, Yongsun saw that the eyes she sought out were trained on her lips instead. Both women, it seemed, wanted the same thing, and it wasn’t a conversation. The graduate student was prepared this time when Byulyi leaned in again, the heartache from earlier put on hold so that the want buzzing between them could be dealt with.

Just as before, Byulyi came in hard, smashing her mouth to Yongsun’s. With the lips moving against her own doing so in a frenzied and desperate manner, she placed a second hand against Byul’s face, hoping to calm her down. Stopping momentarily to lean further into Yongsun’s touch, Byulyi took a few deep breaths to collect herself, it seemed.

“I’m usually much better at this,” she choked out.

“I believe you.” Yongsun smiled, gently stroking the younger woman’s face. She wasn’t sure why or how **she** suddenly became the one to provide comfort, but it was a role gladly accepted. For one, Moonbyul did the same for her moments earlier. With no questions asked, the younger woman held and consoled Yongsun when tears streamed down her face. It was now Yongsun’s turn to be the one providing comfort.

The second reason she was fine with calming Byulyi down: Yongsun’s body hummed with the need to get a proper kiss off, to give in to her desires, if only for a moment. The emotions of the day granted them immunity, cloaked them from reason and logic, gave them permission to give in to what they’d both held back for too long. Whatever happened today could be explained away tomorrow. But it needed to happen **today**. **Right now**. Because reality would creep in later, demanding a discussion. If they wanted to be messy with the illusion of no repercussions, it had to be now. Yongsun needed Moonbyul to get it together.

“Byul,” the graduate student delicately called her friend’s attention back to her. “It’s just me. No need to be nervous.”

“That’s exactly why I’m nervous,” Byul laughed bashfully. “I’ve liked you for about a year now. And I feel **so** stupid for waiting until now to tell you, but, now that I’ll likely be leaving, I had to. I’d regret it if I kept it to myself.”

The words were spoken earnestly and with full sincerity, Yongsun knew. For the past year, the brunette put herself and her feelings second so that she could put Yongsun first. **That** was Moon Byulyi.

It didn’t take Yongsun more than a second to pull the younger woman in for a tender kiss. Molding her mouth against Byulyi’s, Yongsun smiled triumphantly when their movements melted into each other’s. It wasn’t automatic, but they eventually found their rhythm and coordinated their actions. Growing more confident and comfortable, Moonbyul eased Yongsun down until the graduate student’s back rested flat against the couch cushions. Not wanting to ruin the mood but feeling obligated to remind them both of the realities that lie ahead, Yongsun stared at the woman hovering above her until their eyes met.

“Byul-ah, how likely is it that you’re leaving?”

“Very likely,” the senior guiltily answered.

“We’ll have to talk about that.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“And we’ll have to talk about what’s happening between us right now, the things we’re doing.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Okay,” Yongsun nodded.

“Okay,” Byulyi responded spoke barely above a whisper, craning her head ever so slowly to capture Yongsun’s lips between her own. And so they spent the next half hour, teasing pecks mixing with and evolving into more passionate kisses. Ultimately, it was Byulyi’s phone vibrating in her back pocket that put a halt to their actions.

“I have to go. I’m supposed to have dinner with Heeyeon and Kisum,” the athlete whined as she tucked her nose into Yongsun’s neck.

“It’s probably for the best. There’s . . . a lot happening right now. And we’ve discussed none of it.”

“We can talk later?” Byulyi asked hopefully as she stood up.

“I have to pack tonight to go home tomorrow, and **you** have to pack to go home, too.” Moonbyul was heading to Bucheon for 1.5 weeks.

“When we get back, then?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. . . . Bye.” The nerves had returned and clung to Byul’s every action now, but she still quickly leaned in to press one final peck to Yongsun’s lips, hurrying out of the apartment before anything else could be said.

With each passing minute, the blissful smile on Yongsun’s lips slowly faded, as did the lust and emotions fueling her earlier actions, until the weight of what transpired left a more fitting and appropriate grimace in its wake. Regret colored her features.

Yeah, that should not have happened.

*

Eyes fluttering open, Yongsun extended her arms above her head in a satisfying stretch, a violent yawn ripping through her body.

No noise floated through her doors from the floor below, indicating the absence of her parents—they were likely on their way to or from the weekend market. And, having met up with childhood friends the night before, Yonghee was likely still knocked out. All signs pointed towards today being a lazy Saturday, Yongsun’s favorite.

That was, until the young woman reached for her phone and the screen lit up with a horde of unread messages.

**From: Seungyeon**

Making sure we’re still on for Monday? Thinking we could hang at my place, but if that would make you uncomfortable, lmk.

They’d confirmed twice already that they were still on for Monday. Yongsun scrolled.

**From: Byul-ah**

Hey! How’s your day going? 😅

She and Byulyi had spoken almost every day since they left to spend time with their families, and, although each conversation started well, the weight of what they avoided always eventually crept in, making dangerous territory out of even the most innocuous topics.

She’d rather not start her Saturday with the awkwardness. Sighing deeply, Yongsun scrolled past this text, too.

**From: Seoul National University Texting Service**

If you haven’t already, be sure to submit your information for graduation, schedule an appointment for graduation photos, and purchase regalia by Jan. 15th! Use this link.

Respond with ‘STOP’ if you’d like to unsubscribe from this texting service.

Yongsun quickly exited the messages app to set a couple reminders in her calendar so that she wouldn’t miss the deadline, before returning to review the remaining unread texts in her inbox.

**From: Rongie**

Some apartments in Changsub’s building opened up! There are few in Insoo’s, too. And the prices are manageable. Let me know and I’ll try to get some tours set up for when we get back.

Earlier in December, Yongsun and her roommate were enjoying a late dinner when Chorong asked about future plans.

_“Are you thinking of living in UV after graduation?”_ _The young woman asked Yongsun, unaware of the question waking in the blonde an always present, but rarely broadcasted anxiety over the lack of clarity regarding her future._

_“Not sure. Technically, anyone can live here, but I don’t know how I’d feel being a young professional and still living with college students.”_

_“I was thinking the same thing! Insoo was talking to me about it.”_

_“Considering moving in with him?” Yongsun asked, the surprise in her voice not hidden. Chorong and the slightly older man were cute together—he was sweet and calm, somehow thawing out Chorong’s rough edges. But they’d only been seeing each other for a few months at most. Maybe she was old-fashioned, but Yongsun found that to be too short of a time to start thinking about living with someone._

_“Hell no! He **was** curious, though, about whether I’d continue living in this part of Seoul. Even though he claimed he was only asking because UV is pretty removed from everything else, I think he secretly wants me to live closer to him.”_

_“That’s cute,” Yongsun added at what she figured was the appropriate moment. She had only been half listening, her dinner demanding most of her concentration._

_“Yeah. Before he asked, I hadn’t given it serious thought, but afterwards, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I told him to keep an eye out on apartments for us.”_

_“Us?”_

_“Yes. You and I. We have to decide soon on if we want another year on our lease, so why not shop around and see if we can get a better deal?”_

_“That’s fine, we just never had the conversation about whether we were going to continue living together or not.”_

_“Oh please, Yongsun,” Chorong waved her off. “We’re good friends and even better roommates. You and I both know we’re going to keep living together.”_

_Chorong had a point. Even though people usually advised against living with friends, she and Chorong were a good pair. One cooked, the other cleaned, neither was too reckless with the amount of noise they made, and, given their shared circle of friends, coming home to unfamiliar people wasn’t something to worry about._

_“I guess. If you get any serious tips sent your way, let me know. Changsub lives not too far from Insoo, right?”_

_“Yup! I have him keeping an eye out for apartments, too!”_

_“Cool.”_

At the time, it **was** “cool” to Yongsun. Amongst their schoolwork and jobs, the blonde thought this was something Chorong would start out enthused about before eventually tapering off on. She thought she’d have time. But time, it seemed, was something the universe had decided Yongsun deserved none of. Everything was happening at once. It was overwhelming.

**From: Wheein-ah**

Hi, unnie! Just checking in. Hope that your break is peaceful and hoping even more that you’re enjoying it. Miss you! ❤️

Bless Wheein’s heart. For the first time since waking her phone up, Yongsun smiled, relieved breaths calming her body.

**To: Wheein-ah**

This made my day. I miss you, too. We NEED a video call soon. ❤️

Although she refused to talk with others about what happened with Byulyi before talking to the athlete first, Yongsun recognized how tightly she was wound and how spread thin she was. Bottling everything else up was a recipe for disaster. If anything, she’d schedule a call with Wheein, ask for permission to vent for 5 minutes, and then listen intently to what was going on in the younger girl’s life. Yongsun was in dire need of a distraction and she was sure Wheein wouldn’t disappoint.

A few more messages exchanged, Yongsun and Wheein agreed to video call on Tuesday. The younger had first suggested Monday but Yongsun reminded her of the “hangout” with Seungyeon that day. “Excited for the mess,” Wheein hastily moved their talk to Tuesday, a bit too certain for Yongsun’s liking that something would happen to “further complicate things.”

**To: Wheein-ah**

Nothing is going to happen.

I need to start physically distancing myself.

**From: Wheein-ah**

You do. I doubt you’ll be successful on Monday,

but I agree that it may be best to eventually

put an end to physical things.

**To: Wheein-ah**

I’ll be successful. Just wait.

**From: Wheein-ah**

I think she likes you too much to not try something.

We’ll see though!

**To: Wheein-ah**

Doesn’t matter if she tries something, I’ll stop anything from happening.

**From: Wheein-ah**

Unnie, let’s be realistic pls.

Letting out a groan at Wheein’s take on the situation, Yongsun defiantly burrowed herself further into her comforter. She believed herself more than capable of forcing things platonic with the taller woman and then keeping them platonic. Should things get heated with Seungyeon on Monday, Yongsun vowed to stop them. She **could** and she **would**.

*

Yongsun could not and she did not.

Now a writhing, moaning mess underneath the brunette, Yongsun attempted to pinpoint where she went wrong.

It wasn’t when Seungyeon picked her up from her parents’ home. No, the graduate student had stayed firm then, bidding Seungyeon an appropriate, “Hi! It’s great to see you.” She did not hug her. A success.

It wasn’t when Seungyeon welcomed Yongsun to her apartment, cracking a joke about having ordered food for them since she knew how sensitive the blonde was about home-cooked meals. Yongsun laughed heartily, but still kept an appropriate distance between them as she removed her shoes and settled on the couch while Seungyeon prepared the food. A success.

It wasn’t when they sat on the couch, meals finished, intently watching a new drama. Completely engrossed, Yongsun ignored the familiar right hand working its way up her left thigh. The tantalizing patterns Seungyeon traced on her clothed leg did not deter Yongsun from the show’s plot. Her eyes—trained purposefully on the television screen—did not waver. A success.

It was when, halfway through the drama’s second episode, the hand resting idly on her thigh snaked across Yongsun’s stomach and grabbed hold of the smaller woman’s right hip. At the same time, she felt soft lips sucking gently at the hollow below her left ear.

“I missed you,” Seungyeon’s words vibrated against Yongsun’s goosebumps-riddled skin. Beyond moaning, there was no coherent response from Yongsun. It felt magnificent, of course. But that wasn’t what urged Yongsun to let Seungyeon continue. It was the concern that those lips and those words used to set her body on fire, but now, they felt wrong. As Seungyeon sloppily trailed kisses across her jaw and down her neck, Yongsun found herself helpless against the comparisons to Moonbyul etched behind her now-closed lids.

The pressure that Seungyeon applied to her neck was different than that applied by Byulyi. In an attempt to forget the sensations experienced when Byulyi sucked on her neck, Yongsun allowed Seungyeon to lay her flat on the couch. The weight of the body on top of Yongsun—something the blonde had craved two weeks prior—now only made the graduate student think about the way Moonbyul managed some of her weight by resting on her right forearm. Seungyeon’s soft lips and leisurely kiss made Yongsun think about Byulyi’s chapped lips—they’d need to work on fixing that, by the way—pressing so fervently and eagerly against her own. All of the things Seungyeon did, all of the things Yongsun **let** Seungyeon do, no longer created the same excitement in the shorter woman. No longer elicited the same purrs from the graduate student. No longer made Yongsun feel as alive as they once did. All of the things Seungyeon did and all of the things Yongsun let Seungyeon do no longer felt right.

She and Seungyeon stopped that night where they usually did: not too far off from having sex. In fact, they came the closest they ever had that evening, but Yongsun made an excuse about being tired and needing to head home. The sweet woman she is, Seungyeon took time to compose herself before helping Yongsun get dressed and driving the graduate student home.

The entire way back, the blonde stared aimlessly out of the car window, internally scoffing at the fact that not long ago, she ached to be underneath Seungyeon. Not long ago, she also wondered what would happen when Byul confessed. Now she had both and wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure about the rest of you, but I’m still coming down from last week’s update. Here we had Yongsun not doing that well with the aftermath of last week either.
> 
> The comments last week were hilarious. Thank you to everyone that left one. If you did not leave one, do not feel bad. Everyone is encouraged to engage with this story however they feel most comfortable.
> 
> Stream Eclipse by the real-life Moonbyul. Dark Side of the Moon is a beautiful album. It deserves many listens.


	40. Yes?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few readers asked me about playlists/songs for this story. For this chapter, I listened to these two songs a lot. Songs won’t always be directly tied to the content of the chapter, these two happen to have similar themes. You're also not obligated to listen to these songs and will not miss out on anything if you don't listen to them:
> 
> \- Easily by Bruno Major  
\- Crush by Yuna (Feat. Usher)

Byulyi’s first kiss happened at age 12.

As with every summer, she spent the months off from school living with family in the United States—Oakland, to be exact. She liked Oakland. The Bay Area was different enough that she’d have tons of stories to talk off the ears of her friends back home, yet familiar enough that she didn’t feel completely a fish out of water.

Northern California was known for its large population of Koreans, Korean businesses, and Korean community organizations, all of which Moonbyul was immensely grateful for during her first couple of summers there. Her English was decent, but the quick pace of real-life conversation was nothing like that of the language she excelled at in the controlled environment of her English class back home. On the basketball courts of the American camps she attended, Byulyi would quickly grow frustrated at not being able to understand everything or communicate the plays and patterns she saw happening. In those instances, she had the luxury of teammates that spoke and understood Korean. They served as conduits of information between Byulyi, coaches, and other players. In addition to translating, they’d host impromptu English lessons for Moonbyul during water breaks and bus rides home, covering everything from basketball terms to everyday conversation. “Any number in the 40s means full-court pressure. **Whole court**,” they’d say, or “she said she likes your eyes. **Eyes**. She thinks they’re pretty. 예쁘다,” or “that means they want you to sit with them at lunch.” Without those kind young Korean-American girls that took her under their wings during the day and hung out with her at Korean shops at night, summers in the States would have been miserable. Without them, she wouldn’t have been prepared for **that** summer.

While she remembered overhearing bits and pieces of conversations that year between her uncle and father about sending her to camps in other parts of the country, that summer proceeded as normal: Byulyi only attended camps in the Bay Area. It was fine with her. Some people came and went, but many of those she saw at camps were the same faces she’d seen since she was 8-years-old. She’d grown comfortable and forged solid relationships with them. They were her friends and they did what friends did. Outside of basketball, they had sleepovers, they went to the movies, they hung out.

During the last week of Byulyi’s time in Oakland that summer, one of her long-time basketball friends, Khadijah, had a party to celebrate her 13th birthday. She invited the basketball crew to join her non-athletic friends at an arcade-bowling alley. It was a lot of fun. By then, Moonbyul’s English had improved tremendously, so she was able to communicate more naturally with everyone, spending the night mingling with many of Khadijah’s non-athletic friends. One girl, in particular, Tamika, talked to her a lot that day. She pulled Byulyi along to play laser tag with her, made sure Byulyi was on her team for bowling, convinced Byulyi to pool her money with hers so that they could buy and share snacks. Moonbyul thought it was cool, she’d made a new friend.

Eventually, the party crawled to an end, the number of partygoers slowly dwindling as guardians came to pick up their teenagers pre-teens. It was no different for Byulyi. Her older cousin showed up, ready to take the young girl home. As she was collecting her things, Tamika walked up to Byul’s cousin and asked if they could play one last game. “It’ll be quick,” Byulyi remembered the young girl saying. In no rush, Byul’s cousin agreed and Tamika whisked Byul way to the furthest end of the arcade. They ended up at the Pop-A-Shot machines, young-Byulyi assuming Tamika wanted to play basketball.

They did not play basketball. Instead, Tamika led her to behind one of the machines.

_“I had a fun time with you today, Byulyi,” the young girl spoke lowly. Byul was confused as to why. There was no one in this part of the arcade._

_“Me, too,” she smiled. While she had no idea why she was pulled here, her words were sincere. Tamika and the rest of Khadijah’s friends at the party took to her quickly, treating her like one of their own. It felt good that even away from home, she had an ever-growing network of people to spend her days with._

_“That’s good. I’m glad you had fun,” Tamika smiled brightly. It was a pretty smile. Byulyi smiled back. “Anyway, you said you’re leaving in a couple of days, so I hope you fly safely and . . . if you come back next year, we should hang out again.”_

_“That would be nice. I’d like that.”_

_“Cool. Okay . . . that’s all I wanted to say,” the other girl laughed a bit._

_“Oh. Okay.” Byulyi wasn’t sure why they needed privacy for that, but she didn’t mind. It got her a few extra moments at the party._

_“Yeah. Anyway, bye!”_

_Moonbyul was in the middle of saying her own goodbye when she felt Tamika’s lips on hers. She’d kissed her. It was only a peck that lasted less than a second, but it was a kiss nonetheless._

_Initially too stunned to say or do anything, Byulyi almost let Tamika get away, but came to her senses just in time._

_“Wait!” She called after the fleeing girl, grabbing hold of her arm._

_“You were supposed to let me leave,” Tamika stood embarrassed._

_“Why?”_

_“Because now it’s weird.”_

_“It’s not. It’s fine,” Byulyi assured her. And with all the confidence she had in her, the young athlete reached in and pressed her lips to Tamika’s. There was nothing graceful about it, and she probably came in too hot and pushed against Tamika too forcefully, but she’d have plenty of time later to critique her performance. For now, all that mattered was that she’d decided in the few seconds after Tamika kissed her that she liked how it felt and wanted to do it again._

_As with the first kiss, the second kiss was over almost as soon as it started, but that didn’t stop Byulyi from blushing or Tamika from coyly covering her face for a moment._

_“We should hang out again next summer,” Moonbyul tried filling the stale silence._

_“Yeah, we should.” If her darker complexion allowed for it, Byulyi figured Tamika would likely be blushing as hard as she was._

_After a few more moments of silence, Byul spoke up again. “We should probably go now. I don’t want my cousin to get upset.”_

_“Yeah, you’re right. My dad’s probably here by now to pick me up. I need to get my things together.”_

_“Oh. Okay. Well, bye, Tamika.”_

_“Bye, Byulyi!”_

_She thought there’d be one last kiss—was hoping for another one, actually—but there wasn’t. Tamika ran off, and moments later, Byulyi followed in her footsteps. Bidding the remaining partygoers and the birthday girl goodbye, Moonbyul followed her cousin to the car. For the entire ride to her aunt and uncle’s home, she sat in the backseat with her right hand pressed to her mouth, sealing the kisses against the awed smile that stretched across her face._

She didn’t see Tamika that next summer. With things getting more serious in basketball for Byulyi, her father and uncle agreed that attending more prestigious basketball events was the only way to get her in front of the best scouts and against the best talent. Moonbyul spent the following summers in the United States traveling across the country with a top-level AAU* team, making pitstops along the way at some of the most renowned sleepaway basketball camps and tournaments. The new cities and states she visited didn’t have as prominent of a Korean community as the Bay Area, but they had lots of girls that, like Tamika, didn’t mind sneaking away when possible. Instead of Pop-A-Shot machines, the hotels and college dorms that Byulyi and her teammates stayed in became the new sites for surreptitious kisses and inexperienced touching. Thinking back on things, the senior smiled fondly as she remembered just how many girls there were. She didn’t have sex until her relationship with Goeun, but she did everything else with girls all across the United States. Summers abroad used to be among her favorite parts of the year.

Eleven years later, Tamika came to mind for two reasons. One, as with Tamika, Byulyi’s kisses just now with Yongsun were shamefully bad. She had an excuse then—it was her first time kissing someone else—but there was no excuse for the poor performance she put forth moments ago. Not even nerves justified her cracking under pressure as she did. The second reason Tamika flashed across her consciousness was that, just as she did after that kiss, Byul ambled down the hall with her right hand pressed against her lips.

She kissed Yongsun. And Yongsun kissed her back.

The giddiness beating against her stomach walls begged to be released but the athlete composed herself for the moment. There would be time later to fully process and celebrate what happened. For now, a small fist pump would have to suffice.

“Finally, this one decided to grace us with her presence.” Not even 20 seconds had elapsed since she entered the apartment before Heeyeon got on her ass.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not. **You** told us to be ready for 5:00 pm, yet here **you** are, the one that’s late.”

“But I’m here,” Byulyi purposely ignored Heeyeon’s indignation and plopped onto the living room couch. “That’s all that matters. Where’s Kisum?”

“Did I hear my name?” The younger athlete strolled from Byul’s bedroom at that moment.

“What were you doing in my room?”

“Using the bathroom,” Kisum replied as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Okay, but why? You could’ve used Heeyeon’s.”

“You weren’t here. If you didn’t want me to use your bathroom, you should’ve gotten here on time.”

“I’m only, like, 10 minutes late. You two are acting as if I got here an hour past time.”

“You’re late enough that we already ordered food,” Heeyeon rolled her eyes.

“Not even you and your dark-cloud energy can bring me down today, Heeyeon.”

“Ooooo, why are you so happy, unnie?”

For a split second, Moonbyul wondered if she should keep what happened between her and Yongsun between her and Yongsun. Heeyeon and Kisum knew about the museum visit that took place yesterday and would definitely pester her for details. Today’s event was simply an extension of the day before. It only made sense for her to tell them.

“I went to see Yongsun.”

“Silly me for thinking it was something special,” Kisum forced her way between the older women on the couch. “Not that Yongsun-unnie isn’t special, it’s just that I thought it was something out of the ordinary. You always go see her.”

“Out of the ordinary? You know better than that, Kisum. Our Byulyi is all about never-ending yearning and pining.” Heeyeon chimed in. All the while, the senior sat on the right end of the couch wearing a smug smirk.

“Never-ending yearning and pining,” she slowly repeated, her lips never faltering from their upturned position.

“Yes. Wheein, Hyejin, and I were even joking about locking you and unnie into a room together and not letting you out until one of you confesses. It was a joke, but with each day that passes, it’s looking like the way to go.”

“Don’t bother, I already took care of it,” Byulyi tried to shrug nonchalantly. In reality, her hands were still shaking slightly. The past two days’ events still felt surreal.

“Took care of what?!” Kisum asked suddenly, voice a higher pitch than usual.

“Yeah,” Heeyeon started, eyes fixed in a skeptical squint, “took care of what?” Although more composed than the youngest in the room, Moonbyul could sense her disbelief.

“Took care of the confession. I confessed.”

The stunned silence stretched long enough that Byulyi assumed it was the only reaction she’d get. Disappointing, really.

“Get the fuck out!” Heeyeon bellowed. “You’re lying. You’re fucking lying,” Byulyi watched her roommate shake her head endlessly.

“She has to be lying,” a wary smile slowly crept across Kisum’s face. “Look at how you’re smirking! You’re lying. She’s trolling us, unnie.”

“Byulyi, tell us the truth. Stop playing.”

“I’m not playing. I swear on my basketball career.” She held Heeyeon’s gaze for several seconds, determined to convey through her stare the extent of her truthtelling. Not even Kisum comically swiveling her head back and forth between the two was enough to throw Byulyi off.

The graduate student must have seen Byulyi’s seriousness because her steely gaze gradually softened.

“Start talking. Do **not** leave out **any** details,” Heeyeon commanded.

Who was Byulyi to disappoint? She told them everything, pausing only when the delivery person called to announce he was downstairs. Her roommate sprint-walked to retrieve the food, haphazardly dropping the bags onto the kitchen island before situating herself on the couch once again.

“Okay, so the two of you went out, had a disgustingly cute time, went back to her place and she gave you your gift. Go on.” Kisum, who had been silent the entire time despite her mouth hanging open, remained so, but nodded at Heeyeon’s words, offering her muted agreement.

“It was this bracelet, actually,” the athlete proudly jutted her right arm out, the bracelet on full display. When Byulyi left Yongsun’s apartment to change into nightclothes after their day out, she took some time to put the bracelet on. She doubted she’d be taking it off any time soon, if at all. “She gave it to me and the moment was . . . unreal. Can’t even explain all the emotions that I felt. She was standing there barefaced, wearing my sweatshirt, cute as hell. She looked so fucking beautiful. And this was **after** the long day we had where she was bending over backward to make sure I had a good time. Then I look at the gift and it’s this **really** nice bracelet that she clearly put a lot of thought into. Andthenshe asked me, all shy and unsure, if we could order my favorite food and hang out.”

“Aww, that’s actually really cute,” Kisum admitted.

“I was about to kiss her. I was going to kiss her right then and there. You don’t even understand. But I pushed that aside and went to change. We spent the rest of the night together.”

“Yes, you completely ignored all messages and phone calls.”

“I already apologized for that,” Byulyi rolled her eyes. Filling Kisum in, she explained, “Heeyeon texted to ask if I wanted to close out my birthday eating ice cream and watching basketball. I didn’t answer until the next morning because I didn’t **see** the messages.”

“Because you were cozied up with Yongsun-unnie.”

“Yes! I was! And it felt great! Am I supposed to lie about that?”

The three laughed heartily at how quickly and adamantly Byulyi copped to that.

“Getting back on track, why didn’t you kiss her yesterday?”

“Because then she started talking about plans for next year and was asking a ton of questions about me going pro, and I already told you both about her ‘rules’ for the day.”

“You are so fucking whipped,” Heeyeon snickered.

“Whatever. I could’ve still kissed her, but it would’ve felt wrong. I didn’t want to make a move or anything like that when I was keeping something so important a secret. And if I said anything about Turkey, it would have ruined the day. So I decided to just enjoy the moment.”

“Fast forward to today,” her roommate impatiently sped things along.

“Today, as you both know, I met with KB Stars. It was a good meeting but the talk with the coach from Fenerbahçe felt better. It felt **right**. Fenerbahçe feels **right**. She was the first person I went to see after the meeting with KB Stars. It felt wrong not telling her about the update with Fenerbahçe, so I had to do that. Went over there, told her everything, and she broke down.”

“Oh no. Poor unnie,” Kisum sulked.

“I’d never seen Yongsun cry like that. It hurt my heart to see her bawling like that, and it hurt more knowing that there was nothing I could do about it. I even softened the blow. Told her it was ‘very likely’ I was leaving.”

“How likely is it that you’re leaving?” Heeyeon wanted direct answers.

“It’s 95% likely that I’m leaving. Nothing’s set in stone until I sign, and I can’t do that until our season’s over, so anything could happen between then and now, but I want to go to Turkey. I think I need to.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Telling the story now, the athlete was forced to contend with the less stellar parts of things. She had feelings for Yongsun, but in order to grow as a professional, Moonbyul felt it necessary to challenge herself. Fenerbahçe would do just that.

“How did things go from unnie crying her eyes out to you confessing?”

“She started this whole spiel about how Turkey would be best for me and how there’s nothing that South Korea has to offer me. All this mess. She wouldn’t stop talking, babbling complete nonsense. Mind you, she’s still a mess. Trying and failing to keep herself together while she’s saying all of this. I was pretty sure she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince me. Still, I don’t know what took over me, but I just kissed her. Just like that. She just kept saying that there was nothing for me here and I’m sitting there, listening to the most important person in my life ramble on and on about how I should go because I’m ‘too big’ for Korea.”

“Most important person,” Heeyeon mumbled. “We’re sitting right here.”

“You know what I mean though. She’s, like, **my girl. **That’s my **person**. My go-to.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re in love, blah, blah, blah.”

It was an offhand comment, Heeyeon’s typical sarcasm, but the statement made her think. Was she in love? She loved Yongsun, yes. She loved all of her friends. But being **in love** was something else entirely. Byulyi mulled the words over, a bit frightened at the fact that the more she did so, the less far-fetched of a possibility it sounded to her. She liked Yongsun a lot, that much she knew. But how much until “a lot” teetered into “in love”? **That** the athlete did not know.

“What did she do?” The eager words flying from Kisum’s lips drew Byulyi back to the moment. “When you kissed her?”

“Which time?” The athlete joked. “We kissed a few different times. I was absolute shit at it. It was so bad. She even tried to calm me down, and in response, I told her that I was nervous because I’d liked her for a year.”

“Oh my gosh,” Heeyeon facepalmed in disappointment.

“It was bad, Yeonie.”

“It **sounds** bad.”

“Unnie! You’ve kissed a ton of girls before. What the hell?”

“I don’t know! I was so nervous. I was sure about the first kiss and then I opened my eyes and realized I had to **say** or **do** something. Was not prepared for that,” Byulyi sank into her seat.

“What did she say when you two talked about it?”

“We didn’t,” she raked her hands down her face.

“Byul, you’re an idiot. I don’t even want to hear the rest of this.”

“We promised we’d talk after the break though!”

“After the break?! Unnie, you can’t be serious.”

“She’s an idiot, Kisum.”

“What?! It was either we kiss some more or we talk. Forgive me for wanting to do more kissing instead of having a serious conversation right away. It’s not like she’s going to run away. We **have** to talk about it, and we will.”

“You seriously see nothing wrong with confessing to your best friend, kissing her, and then waiting weeks to discuss it?”

“It’s not ideal but it’s not the worst thing ever. We’ll still talk over break and I think the time will help us both formulate our thoughts. It’ll be fine.”

“I agree with her, unnie,” Kisum sided with Byulyi.

“Because you’re also an idiot.”

“Wait, how are the only two people in this room with romantic prospects the idiots? Please explain that, Heeyeon.”

“Kisum is in a relationship with someone that clearly doesn’t mind the idiocy. Andfrom everything you’ve said, Yongsun-unnie never confessed back, so **you** may want to tone down the bragging and not get ahead of yourself. When the two of you settle things, I’ll be one of the first to congratulate you, but it sounds like there’s still a ways to go.”

One could always count on Heeyeon to rain on a parade. The graduate student hadn’t lied. Yongsun didn’t confess back, not out loud, at least. But Byulyi **knew** her. Yongsun wouldn’t do something like kiss her back without having thought it through. For the older woman to do that, she **had** to have feelings for Byulyi. Had to.

Heeyeon and Kisum were bickering over whether or not the former was a “hater”—her comment about Kisum being an idiot obviously struck a nerve—, but with the wind slightly knocked out of her sails, Moonbyul decided to not join in on the jokes.

Yongsun liked her. Right? They didn’t have to date right away. Byulyi’d be fine with that as long as she could confirm that Yongsun had feelings for her. If that were the case, she was sure they could figure things out from there.

Almost as if hypnotizing herself, the senior nodded her head resolutely before leaving her friends to continue their pointless back-and-forth and heading to the kitchen to **finally **make a plate for herself.

She kissed Yongsun. Yongsun kissed her back. The kisses weren’t her best work, but she’d do better next time. Because there would be a next time. There had to be. There **would** be.

*

4,012 likes

**byulyi** Sorry for not responding sooner to all the birthday messages. I was taming dragons 🐉. Thank you, everyone! #23

View all 2,863 comments

**ghostacct** You are d finest woman in the world.

**akdhs847** So cute and handsome at the same time. How?!

**odj503** Happy birthday 🙈

The comments on her social media posts were always entertaining. While the strangers and trolls camping underneath every post of hers were jarring at first, Moonbyul came to view the cesspool of comments favorably. She didn’t know most of these people but their clever quips and comically uncontrollable lusting always had Byulyi walking away from her social media accounts feeling significantly better about herself than when first swiping into her phone. She needed a mood boost today. Big time. Hence the picture she posted.

It was innocuous, not a “thirst trap” as Heeyeon or Hyejin or Kisum often called most of her uploads—a picture from the day spent with Yongsun. It felt like forever ago but only 4 days had passed since their excursion to the Trick Eye Museum. In the photo, Byulyi sat on a dragon’s “tail”, a bright smile on her face as she gave a thumb’s up to the camera, ignoring altogether the large, raging, scaled beast painted on the wall beside her. Emerging from angry sea waters, the fictitious dragon reared its sharp teeth, mouth stretched open to its limit as the beast roared angrily in Byul’s direction. She only did it to make Yongsun laugh, and Yongsun laughed a lot while snapping that picture. A wistful smile spread across the young woman’s face at the memory. Better times.

Yongsun was obviously avoiding her. Not **avoiding** avoiding, but the responses to messages were arriving slower than usual. After the confession, both women left SNU the following day to spend part of their winter break with family. It was possible that Yongsun got pulled into family things, resulting in less free time to respond to the silly memes Byulyi sent her, but they’d made time to talk on the phone a few times and, even then, things felt off. At any given moment, their tiptoeing around the elephant in the room would transform the free-flowing conversation into stagnant silence that only grew more and more awkward and uncomfortable. Byulyi hated it. It wasn’t **them**, but she was doing her best to give Yongsun the time needed to process everything—it was how the graduate student best operated. She needed time and space to handle things that she found overwhelming, and with the way she was behaving with Moonbyul, it was clear that she found their current situation to be exactly that.

Feeling the vibrations rippling across her mattress, Byulyi rolled onto her side and retrieved her cell phone. More hijinks from Instagram she was sure.

Checking who the latest comments came from, the athlete groaned. They had to have planned it:

**heeyeon** Is there a hidden meaning behind this?

|**kisum** @heeyeon Ohhhh.

|**wheein** @heeyeon Hidden meaning? 👁️

**hyejin** Who took the picture, unnie?

|**sandeul** @hyejin Good question!

|**byulyi** @hyejin A dragon 😎

|**hyejin** @yongsun Unnie, you took this?

|**wheein** @hyejin 😂

On and on the ridicule continued. Wheein and Hyejin didn’t yet know about what happened with Yongsun, but that clearly didn’t deter them from poking fun at her. Thankfully, Byulyi’s parents called her downstairs for dinner. The athlete couldn’t be happier for the distraction, leaving the not-so-subtle jokes to pile up in silence as her phone lay forgotten in her bedroom.

*

On Saturday, Byulyi was comfortable with giving Yongsun space and time. She was fine waiting until they both returned to SNU after the break. And then two more days of snail-like responses from Yongsun grated on her patience.

If they waited for the next week to pass before having a real conversation about the state of things between them, it would do more harm than good. Time would only allow the buried conversation to fester. Again, Byulyi **knew** Yongsun and knew that avoidance was her go-to coping mechanism when faced with stressful situations. That, coupled with the graduate student’s need for time to get her bearings, meant that if the athlete left it up to Yongsun, they’d discuss the confession and their kisses months down the line. It needed to happen sooner. Byulyi recognized that she needed to be the one to initiate the conversation. Ugh.

Maybe it was the endorphins, but after completing her workout at the local gym, the athlete’s body rejected the idea of returning to her parents’ home. The sky above was devoid of clouds, the crisp December air perfectly complementing the radiant sun above. It was peaceful. It was comfortable. It was a beautiful day, and it would be a shame to waste one of those stuck inside.

Standing next to the driver’s door, the brunette closed her eyes, making the most of having nowhere to be as she took several deep breaths through her nose. Each exhale expelled gusts of stress and apprehension, leaving behind a much-needed calm that steadily seized Byulyi’s body. Enjoying a rare clearheadedness, she honored the one thought played on a loop in her head—she wanted to see Yongsun. So that’s exactly what she set out to do.

The drive to the graduate student’s home wasn’t long at all. With the dearth of vehicles on the roads, Moonbyul’s drive from Bucheon to Seoul only took a quarter of an hour.

Slotting into a parking spot across the street, Byul put her vehicle in park and removed her cell phone from its mounted position on the dashboard. The phone rang for a few seconds before the lady of the hour’s face filled the screen. Literally filled the screen.

“Why is the camera so close to your face? Fix it.”

“You call me and the first thing you do is boss me around?” Yongsun finally adjusted the view.

“That’s better!”

“Why are you video calling me so suddenly?”

“Because you don’t answer your messages.”

“I do,” the older woman tried to sound convincing.

“Not quickly enough for my liking. What are you up to?”

“Nothing. You?”

“Went to the gym this morning.”

“As usual,” Yongsun knowingly acknowledged.

“Yeah. It is **so** weird having to carry my own workout gear around. I almost left home today without my gym sneakers. I’m so accustomed to everything being at the facility already.”

“Spoiled princess treatment.”

Ignoring the sass, Byulyi got to the crux of things. “Speaking of princesses, what are your plans for the day?”

“I’m supposed to video call with Wheein later, but that’s it.”

“Good!”

“Why good?”

“Because I’m outside. Put clothes on. Let’s go for a drive.”

“I should’ve known you’d do something like that.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” Byulyi chuckled. “Hurry up.”

“Fine,” Yongsun kissed her teeth and disconnected the call.

Yongsun would start off pissy, but Byulyi knew the older woman would quickly get over it. They didn’t go for drives often, but the graduate student enjoyed it each time they did.

While waiting, Byulyi cycled through the slew of games on her cell phone that she neglected earlier in the morning. Ten minutes—or 1 extreme-difficulty game of sudoku—later, Yongsun unceremoniously rattled the door open and settled into her seat.

“You look ridiculous,” the athlete snorted. Between the mismatched socks poking out from her Crocs and the oversized sweatshirt Yongsun was swimming in, it was impossible to miss that the outfit was haphazardly thrown together. Dropping her phone into the cupholder, Byulyi woke the car up and put it into drive. “Put on your seatbelt.”

“You told me to hurry up. This is a ‘hurry up!’ outfit. Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll just drive around and take random turns until we find somewhere to stop. How about that?”

“That works,” Yongsun agreed.

Chancing a quick glance to her right, Moonbyul observed the blonde’s taut jaw. She was tense.

“Yong, put on some music. You always play good songs.”

“You make fun of me all the time for the songs I play.” Despite her protest, Yongsun still reached for Byulyi’s cell phone, making quick work of the lock code and scrolling through her options.

“I just do that to bug you. I always add your songs to my library afterward,” she coolly admitted while turning left into a dead-end street.

“If you were a normal person, you’d tell me which of the songs you liked so that I could add them right away for you.”

“Hmm,” the younger woman eyed both sides of the road for parking, “things didn’t go so well the last time I admitted to liking something.” Eyeing a space, Moonbyul stealthily occupied the spot and cut the engine but allowed the music Yongsun selected to continue playing in the background at a lower level. Turning to finally fully meet Yongsun’s eyes, she spoke again. “Ready to talk?”

“I thought we were waiting for after break?”

“I made the executive decision that we need to get it over with sooner rather than later. Things have been **weird** between us. I don’t like that. We’re not good when we’re weird.”

“Yeah. I don’t like it either,” the smaller woman softly shared, eyes trained on the busy movement of her hands in her lap.

“Yeah,” Byulyi sighed. Figuring they needed to warm up to the conversation some more, the athlete slightly shifted the direction of things. “I told my parents about my decision yesterday.”

Yongsun’s ears and energy perked up at that. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“So the decision has been made.”

“For the most part.”

“Stop talking like that,” the graduate student raised her voice. “You keep hedging around it. If you’re leaving then say that. Be clear about what’s happening. You keep talking as if I know what’s going on and I don’t.”

Clarity. Yongsun wanted clarity, Byulyi realized.

“I’m leaving, yeah.”

It was the first time she’d spoken that absolutely on the matter. Prior to this conversation, Moonbyul informed those that needed to know that it was “very likely” she was leaving. Given the nature of things, there **was** an element of uncertainty. As she couldn’t sign anything for a few more months, the chances of another team swooping in at the last moment and catching Byulyi’s eye existed—they were slim, but they were there. The weight of her words uttered only moments ago started sinking in, began fully resonating with her. Maybe Yongsun wasn’t the only one avoiding things.

Maybe the reality of her situation was what Moonbyul had hoped to keep at bay with her hemming and hawing. She was leaving. It was real. And she had to contend with all that came with that.

“Okay. You’re leaving. It’s official.”

“Yeah,” the athlete gulped. The finality of those words tasted bitter on her tongue.

“How did your parents take it?”

“My mom took it surprisingly well. She was so excited. It’s like she can’t wait for me to leave or something,” the mental image of the meeting with her mother’s reaction made her smile fondly.

“I’m sure no one **wants** you to leave. She’s probably just proud. When it comes time for you to actually go, though, she’ll be a mess.”

“Probably.”

Byulyi’s head swam with new thoughts of what the future held and looked like. “Swam” made it sound like an enjoyable process. In actuality, the senior was drowning suddenly. She was leaving her home.

“How are you feeling about it?” Yongsun’s voice became a magnet for Moonbyul’s attention, pulling the athlete’s gaze from the steering wheel it had been trained on.

“It’s weird. That was the first time I said it that directly. I’m leaving. It sounds weird. I haven’t even thought about how it makes me feel because it only just became **real**.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yeah. There’s a bit of time for me to come to terms with everything. If I had to guess, I wouldn’t fly out until late-August or early-September. That’s, like, 8 or 9 months. Lots of time.”

“Lots of time,” Yongsun drawled below her breath.

“How are **you **feeling about it?” Byulyi decided to flip the tables.

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, that’s why I asked,” the senior held Yongsun’s gaze.

“It’s a lot,” the blonde shrugged.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I dumped a lot on you, and I keep adding more. The more I talk, the weirder things get between us.”

“Things aren’t **that** weird between us.”

“I told you I was leaving the country to play professional basketball, then I kissed you, then I confessed to having feelings for you.”

“Okay, yeah, you have a point,” the older woman giggled heartily, Byulyi joining her. For the first time that morning, the air around them didn’t feel as suffocating. “You shouldn’t have to apologize for being honest about how you feel though.”

“I guess. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

“You’ve been acting like you’re uncomfortable. All of our conversations since then have been off.”

“I just don’t know what to do or say, Byul-ah. I don’t know what’s next. And not even only with you, with life, in general. There’s too much happening and I don’t know where to start.”

The senior sat back in her seat, taking in how frantic with worry Yongsun sounded. The older woman desperately needed someone to talk to, that much was clear, and Byulyi hated that her best friend never considered opening up to her.

“If there’s that much going on, why haven’t you talked to me about it, Yong? This isn’t a one-way friendship. It shouldn’t be only me sharing my worries. The same way you’re here for me, I’m here for you. I’ve told you that before.”

“You have big things going on, Byul. Listening to me stress about finding an apartment is beneath you.”

“That’s bullshit. If it’s affecting you, then it’s just as important as anything else and I want to hear about it.” Reigning in her frustration, the athlete softened her tone. “Come here,” Moonbyul reached out for Yongsun, pulling her across the center console and into her lap. “You can’t keep all that stuff to yourself. It’s not good for you.”

“I know,” the graduate student spoke into Byulyi’s chest.

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing. **All** of this is new to me.”

“So tell me about what’s going on.”

“Now?” Yongsun lifted her head from Moonbyul’s chest.

“Yes, now. You don’t have anything else to do today.”

“I have my call with Wheein.”

“That’s much later. We have time. Talk to me. I need to know what’s going on with my Yongsun.”

For the next four hours, they sat in the reclined driver’s seat of Byulyi’s car, Yongsun finally unleashing all she’d been harboring within—stress related to academics, fears around employment, not wanting to disappoint her family, she shared it all. Byulyi listened attentively, prodding and challenging her to go deeper and say more whenever necessary. The conversation, she’d say, was productive.

“I’m not going to have anything to vent to Wheein about now,” the older woman joked, still resting comfortably against Moonbyul’s chest.

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

“Maybe.”

In all her stream of consciousness, Yongsun never once mentioned romantic relationships. That was one glaring omission, but Byulyi didn’t want to push, so she let it go. Catching sight of the time on her car’s dashboard, though, Byul realized she’d have to drop Yongsun back home soon and she’d be doing them both a great disservice if they didn’t address the shifting dynamic between them.

“You know we can’t leave without talking about what happened, right?” She started, arms wrapped securely against the woman on top of her.

“I was hoping we could.”

“Yongsun . . .”

“I know, I know,” she sighed in defeat.

“You can be honest with me. Even if I won’t like the answer.”

“I know.”

“You can be **honest** honest.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have feelings for me? I know we kissed, but you never actually said how you felt, so I just wanted to know.”

Her heart rate increased with each of those words, climbing to a rapid thumping against Yongsun’s cheek.

Feeling the movement of Yongsun’s head, Byulyi refused to look down but let out the breath she’d intentionally been holding in when Yongsun finally spoke up moments later.

“Yes.”

“Yes?!”

“You’re **so** annoying!”

“I just want to be sure, because it sounded like you said ‘yes’, so I wanted to make sure that you said ‘yes’ because I heard ‘yes’.”

“Oh my gosh!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing you,” Byulyi pressed a tender kiss to the top of Yongsun’s head.

“I’m not ready for anything though.”

“And I’m not trying to pressure you into anything.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. We don’t have to rush.” In Byul’s mind, they didn’t have 8 or 9 months left, they had as long as they’d need or want.

“Okay.”

“I should get you back home.”

After helping Yongsun resituate herself in the passenger’s seat, the athlete got them back on the road and in front of the blonde’s home in no time.

“Thank you for coming over today.”

“You’re welcome. It was necessary. We needed to get back to being us.”

“I’m sorry for being distant.”

“It was only because you like me so much,” Byulyi wagged her eyebrows. Calling it a relief that they were able to joke about this now was an understatement.

“I was being serious.”

“And I was trying to lighten the mood. In the spirit of being serious, though, let’s just keep being us, okay? Please? We can figure everything else out as we go, but let’s stay us. . . . with maybe more kissing.”

“That’s my cue to leave.”

“No kiss? I have to redeem myself.”

“On the cheek.”

“A peck on the lips.”

“A kiss on the cheek.”

“Fine,” Moonbyul conceded, allowing Yongsun to do her do.

“**Bye**, Byul-ah. Thank you for getting me out of my head today,” Yongsun unhooked her seatbelt and exited the car.

“Text me later, okay?” The athlete shouted out her window.

“Will do,” Yongsun’s voice carried.

Once Yongsun made it safely into her house, Byulyi sped off, internally buzzing throughout the entire ride.

She and Yongsun were nowhere near being in the clear, and there were several other large life decisions to be properly fleshed out, but this was a promising start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Monday somewhere. It’s also Tuesday in other places. Yay to both days.
> 
> *AAU: Amateur Athletic Union, an amateur sports organization. AAU supports and promotes many sports for amateurs (aka non-professionals), including basketball. Essentially, there are club basketball teams all across the USA and they follow rules set out by the AAU. AAU teams—usually for young children up to age 18 or so—travel all over and compete against each other in tournaments. As with any sporting organizations, there are teams known to be more elite/competitive than others. Athletes with hopes of playing in college/university try to play for the best AAU teams to be seen by the best coaches/scouts.
> 
> ETA: Removed the spiel about posting delay notices by a certain time because everyone told me they didn't need or want it. If y'all don't need it, I don't need it.


	41. What Would Be vs. What Could Happen

Everyone called Jung Wheein an old soul. The term applied, it did. Within her tiny body lived an indescribable appreciation for the beauty of — and history behind — anachronisms. Trinkets, fashion, paintings and drawings, music . . . anything, really. If from a previous time, it became the subject of Wheein’s fondness. A position many humans wouldn’t mind being in.

Maybe it was the artist in her that explained the connectedness felt to earlier times. Maybe it was the other way around: the connection to earlier times leading her to art, fueling the desire within to learn all she could about the past to make possible the fusing of the “then” with the “now”.

Especially music. For whatever reason, the sounds of times and worlds both foreign and familiar to her resonated with Wheein most significantly. Music comforted and calmed her during the most challenging of times, always available to keep Wheein company when called upon, a decade and genre for every which moment. Without a word uttered, music understood what she needed and set the mood _just_right, allowing her to tap into the thoughts and feelings and words and possibilities constantly churning within her mind.

Hmm . . . maybe Hyejin was music, too. Their relationship was the same.

Of course, this wasn’t the point.

Wheein was an old soul. While simultaneously bursting at the brim with the passion, energy, and brash optimism of youth. An oxymoron. It seemed. Watching Jung Wheein in action, though — as Yongsun currently did — it made all the sense in the world.

A black hoodie at least two sizes too big consumed the younger girl’s upper body, stopping halfway past her thighs, blending almost seamlessly with the black sweatpants that did the same for her legs. It was adorable, really, watching Wheein work. She only ever tore concentration from the board in front of her to scrunch the sleeves of her sweater above her elbows when the material would mischievously and — judging from the annoyed sighs Wheein let out each time — frustratingly spill past her hands, interrupting the otherwise smooth creative process occurring. In response to the exasperated grunt the third-year let out, a crass, semi-garbled snicker reflexively escaped Yongsun’s throat.

“What’s so funny?” Wheein asked harshly, remnants of annoyance at the losing battle being fought with her sweatshirt lingering.

“You and your sleeves,” Yongsun answered. Honesty was usually the best policy. “Just fold them,” she smiled, training her eyes, once again, on the laptop screen in front of her.

“I don’t wanna,” the younger huffed. The brush in hand flopped about, no say in the matter as it was unceremoniously waved in every which direction.

“Why are you so cute, Wheein-ah?” The small smile and affectionate tone, while unintentional, tempered the flickers of fury growing within the darker-haired girl. Before it saw its full potential, the frustration transformed into gentle chuckles.

“I’m losing it, unnie.”

“We can tell.”

“I’m serious! Not even sure why I’m stressing out over something so small.”

“Maybe it’s your way of making sure you don’t stress over the **big** things.”

“None of that,” she picked up a second brush to form an ‘x’. “I’m the wise one today, thank you very much.”

“You’re the wise one every day,” Yongsun absentmindedly assured her, hastily typing out a sentence her brain had belatedly formulated. She needed it six minutes ago when focusing her weight’s worth of energy on translating frantic hand gestures into words that conveyed why she’d be a “great fit” for this job being advertised.

“I know, just wanted to hear you say it.” Smirking playfully, the Fine Arts student took a few moments to resume where she left off in her work before checking in with her equally-overwhelmed-but-more-stubborn older friend. “How are things going with you?”

“Just dandy.” Although she smiled brightly, the words dripped with sarcasm. Yongsun turned her computer around, showcasing the lone paragraph completed.

“It’s been two hours, unnie!”

“Thank you, Wheein. I hadn’t realized,” she deadpanned.

“I’m just saying,” Wheein raised her palms defensively.

“It’s your fault. The music is too distracting, the lights are too soft, and the room is too comfortable! I can’t get work done when I’d rather spread out on the couch over there and watch you paint instead.”

“Finish an application and meet the other terms we set, then you can spread out and watch me paint for as long as you’d like,” she turned to re-up on white and purple paint.

“That’s so much!” A futile argument, but, at this point, Yongsun’d take any distraction over completing the cursed cover letter assigned to her.

“You agreed to it. Get back to work. I’m not going to let you waste more time. You’re not as slick as you think you are, unnie.” The words were firm yet patient, similar to a parent gently scolding a young child.

But Wheein wasn’t lying. Yongsun did agree to the day’s terms. In her defense, it didn’t seem as troublesome when first assigned to her. She even remembered having the nerve to feel slightly disrespected at how low the bar was being set.

_An hour or two after her excursion around the neighborhood with Byulyi, Yongsun stuck to her word and video called Wheein. Originally intending to spend only a few minutes on her problems before demanding that Wheein take over talking duties, the now-brown-haired artist insisted they dive deeper._

_“When’d you change your hair?”_

_“Last week. The bob was growing out and I didn’t like how the black looked with it.”_

_“What are you talking about? It looked great on you?” Yongsun settled into her bed’s sheets, out of breath from the trek up the one flight of stairs._

_“The black or the bob?”_

_“Both. Long hair with black would’ve looked good.”_

_“Then I’ll just dye it black,” Wheein shrugged._

_“You’re not afraid of doing damage to your hair with all that dyeing?!” Living as an unnatural blonde, Yongsun quickly learned of the horrors that came with that lifestyle. Truthfully, halfway through the semester, she’d nearly given up on maintaining her hair color altogether—it was too much. Money, time, care, all of the above. Being blonde was a chore. Nothing but pure stubbornness convinced her to stick it out. Until at least the semester’s end._

_Semester’s end came and went. She was still blonde. Something else to add to the list of things to take care of._

_“Says the blonde.”_

_“Doesn’t that make me most qualified to lecture others on the perils of excessive dyeing?”_

_“Perhaps,” Wheein relented. “How much longer are you thinking of keeping that color?”_

_“Who knows.”_

_“Well, **you** should know. No?”_

_“Plenty of things I should know about that I don’t,” Yongsun groaned._

_“That sounds yummy. Say more, sis.”_

_“Funny enough, I just said it all to Byulyi a little earlier. We drove around—well, **she** drove around—found somewhere to park, and talked for hours about what’s been on my mind. I’m tapped out.” On cue, a violent yawn leapt out._

_“Sounds intimate, sis.”_

_“What’s with this ‘sis’ business?”_

_“Sorry, too much social media over vacation. I talk in memes now. Kind of gross, honestly.”_

_“As long as you know,” Yongsun mumbled._

_“Ignoring that as hard as you ignored the comment about intimacy with Byul-unnie.”_

_The hesitation was enough for Wheein to know something was amiss._

_“Uh oh.”_

_“There’s nothing to ‘uh-oh’ about.”_

_“You froze up. That means something happened.” Pokes and prods from Wheein never felt intrusive. It was a skill, how delicately she managed to toe the line between demanding answers and not being overbearing. Talented, that one._

_Yongsun wasn’t prepared to share all of the Byulyi-situation today, though. The original plan had been to **maybe** tell people after she and the athlete discussed it themselves. That was supposed to take place after their school break. Instead, Moonbyul pulled up on her unexpectedly today and charmed her way into the very conversation Yongsun wanted to avoid._

_With everything now on the table between her and Moonbyul, it felt okay to mention it to Wheein. Intentionally skipping over what happened would be wrong, no matter how appealing an option it appeared. Conversation fresh, and the kiss(es) only one week old, now was as good a time as ever._

_Drawing in a dramatic, deep breath, the graduate student let it out. “Byulyi confessed.”_

_Gauging Wheein’s reaction for a few seconds, Yongsun found the eventual response rather underwhelming._

_“Is that all?”_

_“I mean, no, we talked about other stuff, too, but that was the biggest piece of news,” she grew defensive. Even if it **were** all, Yongsun found the event worthy of much more fanfare._

_Biting her lip, Wheein looked almost apologetic. “Not to seem rude or anything, but I already knew that she liked you, unnie.”_

_“You knew?” This was news to her._

_“Yeah, everyone did. It was obvious.”_

_“Not to me. Obviously.”_

_“Really? We all thought you were playing dumb.”_

_“Nope. Guess I’m just actually dumb,” Yongsun smiled wryly, lips pulled tight._

_“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”_

_“Who is ‘we’?”_

_“Me, Hyejin Heeyeon-unnie. Probably everyone else, too,” Wheein shrugged nonchalantly as if it were normal so many people were invested in a relationship they weren’t in themselves. Their close friends, sure, that made sense. But this “everyone else” . . . she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. Additionally, why would she have known about Moonbyul’s feelings, yet carry on as she did? Hugging and kissing and touchin–_

_As quickly as that train of thought came to mind, Yongsun shut it down, guilt creeping up her neck, and threatening to show itself on her face. While it was true that she hadn’t known for certain about her best friend’s feelings for her, the graduate student could not declare as strongly as she would have liked that she’d never carry on recklessly with someone whose feelings she was aware of. Wasn’t that what she’d been doing with Seungyeon? Proceeding as if the feelings professed weren’t an issue? That’s what they agreed on, no? Seungyeon said it was fine, Yongsun putting forth the weakest of challenges before acquiescing and agreeing that, yes, it was fine. Continuing a friends-with-benefits, no strings attached relationship where one person had deeper feelings and the other dilly-dallied her way through things, they concluded, made sense. _

_Growth comes through being brutally honest with one’s self while being equally as forgiving and nonjudgmental. Mistakes don’t automatically make someone a bad person, but coming to this harsh realization about the status of things between her and Seungyeon, Yongsun didn’t particularly feel like a good person either._

_“You said there was more,” Wheein pulled Yongsun from her daze. “What else happened?”_

_And so, Yongsun told her. About Moonbyul’s birthday, the fuzziness afterward, her own confession. About concerns over employment and worries over not living up to expectations that she said her family had of her when, in reality, they were figments of her imagination. Arbitrary markers of success that dictated her every move and that she assumed others—family, friends, professors—held her to._

_“Well . . . that does sound like a lot. The confession part, though, . . . that sounds about right,” Wheein laughed out loud upon hearing it all. “Appropriately melodramatic.”_

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_“Listen, I love you and Byulyi-unnie dearly, but you guys are unbearable sometimes. The two of you make things so dramatic for no reason.” Wheein’s phone had moments ago been balanced on the desk in her room, the younger girl disappearing from view for a few moments, and her response distant._

_“You can’t walk away right after saying something like that.”_

_A few moments later, Wheein appeared in view again, plopping into her desk chair and adjusting the lighting. “Did I lie?”_

_She, in fact, did not lie. Yongsun sighed in defeat._

_“Happy that the two of you are finally on the same page, though.”_

_“To an extent.”_

_“Sounds like more drama coming. I’ll let you work through that some more.” Wheein sensed the hesitation and didn’t want to push when what Yongsun was only prepared for was a pivot. “What about the other things? The apartment and job and whatnot. What’s the action plan?”_

_Action plan. Yeah, she did **not **have one of those._

_“Unnie, you said the two of you spent hours talking all of that through and an action plan was never decided on? No next steps?”_

_“It was more so me venting and Byulyi nodding, holding me and asking clarifying questions here and there.”_

_“Ugh,” the third-year gagged. “She’s so soft with you. It’s cute but it’s also kind of gross. You need a plan. Traction. Movement. Getting the frustration out is necessary, a good first step. BUT. And I mean **but**, there has to be action, otherwise, you’ll stay where you are—frustrated. And you’ll probably grow more frustrated because you’ll be in the same situation with nothing changing.”_

_“I wish I could be as put-together as you,” Yongsun sighed._

_“Far from it. I’m ready to pull my hair out.”_

_Racking her brain, Yongsun thought through previous conversations she’d had with Wheein. Yes, some larger concerns had occupied her mind, but it wasn’t possible that she’d been that negligent of a friend, right? If Wheein had mentioned something distressing, she would have remembered. Right?_

_“Calm down. You didn’t forget anything,” the brunette playfully rolled her eyes. “I can read the panic written on your face. It’s a recent development. Got word from the Department Head that I’ve been tapped for the senior exhibition that happens at the start of each school year.”_

_“Wheein-ah! My baby’s talent is being recognized! Why are you stressed about it? That sounds amazing!”_

_It sounded like everything someone artistically-inclined would want._

_Until Wheein went in-depth into about things. _

_The exhibit was in September, nine months away, but Wheein and her advisor would need to agree on a theme by the end of January. Following that, there would be monthly evaluations on her progress until June when the complete portfolio would be submitted for review and approval, leaving July and August to make any necessary alterations. In actuality, it was six months to conceive of a concept and create a complete portfolio._

_“Damn.”_

_“Exactly,” Wheein moaned, head thrown into her hands. “But!” She suddenly sprung up, “I have a plan! Created a loose timeline that details when, ideally, each part of the process should be completed. Part of that plan included emailing my advisor throughout the break, so we’re pretty close to piecing a concept together! Ahead of schedule.”_

_“Of course.” Even when she didn’t have it together, Wheein had it together._

_“There’s bound to be a few weeks where the mere sight of canvases and brushes and paint makes me sick. Had to strike while hot. We get back to campus next Tuesday and I’ll be holed up in my dorm room painting all day next Wednesday. You should join me! We can both get some work done and hold each other accountable. We’ll be accountabili-buddies! It’ll be fun because you’ll buy food and drinks!”_

_“How did I know there’d be a catch?”_

_“What catch? Being productive is impossible to do on an empty stomach. I’m providing the space and the ambiance. A fair tradeoff.”_

_“Impressed with your innate ability to con free food out of people.”_

_“And drinks!”_

_“A scammer,” Yongsun smiled. Wheein was a character. _

_“A creative.”_

_“Mmhmm. Call it whatever you want. But fine, I’ll be there.” Avoiding this work date was impossible. Having spent more time today dredging up all that she had to contend with, backing out of a chance to make a dent in all that ailed her wouldn’t look great. She’d been doing **a lot** of talking. Wheein was right, it was time to **do** something about it._

_“Yay! Let’s set some goals,” the younger of the two chirped, menacingly rubbing her hands together._

That’s how Yongsun found herself on Wednesday afternoon in Wheein and Hyejin’s shared SNU dorm room. It was a cute space. Very **them**. The apartment was about half the size of a University Village apartment—one room serving as a living room-kitchen, a shared bathroom, and one bedroom that the two shared—but there was character. It felt like home. Photographs of the two, from childhood to now, adorned the small wooden table in the corner that also served as storage space, an eating table, and a plant holder. Plants were a **must** for Hyejin. “_It’s organized clutter_” Wheein insisted the first time Yongsun visited earlier in the school year. Whatever the clutter was, it wasn’t a bother to her. Left just enough space for Yongsun’s laptop which, with the shades on the one window in the place covered, and the string lights bouncing softly against the beige walls, cast an almost intrusive strain on her eyes. Staring at this thing for hours and making so little progress was demoralizing.

One job application submitted. Five apartments flagged to potentially visit with Chorong. Gym time with Taecyeon scheduled.

Those were Yongsun’s tasks for the day.

To procrastinate submitting the job application, the blonde searched for apartments and found three before growing antsy with that and opting to initiate a conversation with Taecyeon instead. Workout immediately agreed on, not long passed before the two found themselves engrossed in a meme battle. Taec’s girlfriend made a surprise visit though, ending their competition—Yongsun won, no doubt thanks to all the memes Byulyi had saved on her phone—and forcing Yongsun to grudgingly focus on the half-completed cover letter mocking her.

“Wheein-ah, I have half an application, three apartments, and a gym date with Taec scheduled for Friday.” Classes began the following Monday. Of the students back on campus, most would spend Friday sleeping the day away and chasing that with a night out, resuming the collegiate antics interrupted by a few weeks home with their families. The gym would be empty.

“Nice! Let me know when you’ve submitted the complete application and have 5 apartments listed! Good job on time with Taecyeon-oppa. You’re in desperate need of some stress relief.”

“I worked out without him over break,” Yongsun grumbled, mashing her fingers against the keyboard to form a sentence about skills she had that matched the skills they sought. Something like that.

“Yeah, but everyone you hung out with over break brought you more stress. Byulyi-unnie and Seungyeon-unnie. Stress. Much like our time together today, you need more stress-free time,” Wheein threw a sarcastic smile Yongsun’s way, the pronounced indent next to her mouth making an appearance. Even with the soft lighting, it was visible.

Amidst everything else, there was one update that escaped Yongsun a week ago during their video call, and almost did the same today. Catching it by the ankle, she pulled it to center stage.

“You were right, you know,” Yongsun proclaimed.

“I know,” Wheein agreed, slow, precise strokes scratched across the canvas. “What exactly about though?”

“Seungyeon. I didn’t mention her last week. Told you we were going to hang out but didn’t fill you in on it after the fact.”

“There was so much going on, I don’t blame you. What happened there?”

“The usual,” Yongsun admitted.

“Unnie . . .” The word felt as if it were to be accompanied by an exasperated sigh. Maybe for Yongsun’s benefit, Wheein held it back.

“I know. I’m going to stop things with her though.” A crisp eye roll from the younger woman stung, but it was warranted. Those same words had been uttered several times before, never holding any weight. “I deserved that.”

“With the Byulyi-unnie situation, you kind of have to decide, don’t you? Can’t keep them both. They both like you. It’ll get messy. Messier,” Wheein’s soft brown brows furrowed together, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth just slightly. A seatbelt secured around the topic, their conversation took a backseat to whatever detail on the canvas that had suddenly become priority.

“Mmm,” Yongsun hummed noncommittally, letting Wheein focus.

“Sorry about that. But yeah, it’ll get messier. Because somehow, even with you not dating either of them, things have already been getting out of control.”

“I’m going to end the physical stuff with Seungyeon.”

“Add it to your to-do list.”

“Oh my gosh! You and these lists! Where’s Hyejin? She wouldn’t keep giving me work to do.”

“That’s exactly why she isn’t here. Heard you were coming and got excited, then I told her we’d be doing work and she vanished.”

Yongsun brilliantly wasted 20 more minutes calling Hyejin, urging the younger woman to come save her.

“Unnie, I’m eating. Call me again when you’ve finished your homework and I’ll head over” she promised.

“We have food here!” Wheein’s voice wafted over from her painting space.

“Oooo,” Hyejin cooed, “save me some of that. Until then, have fun. See you later, unnie!”

The following four hours passed surprisingly quickly, saturated with nothing but the silkiest of R&B hits floating about the room. A gift from the heavens above it must have been, because as with the enchanting music filling the room, productivity hypnotized Yongsun, leaving her in a moment of concentration that spanned hours. Before she knew it, the cover letter was complete. Serendipitously, the deep bass and intoxicating melodies of Uhm Jung Hwa’s ‘Invitation’ began building upon one another the moment Yongsun clicked ‘submit’.

“Done!” Yongsun emphatically shut her laptop. “I’m free!”

“You’re **dramatic**. Honestly though, I think I’m done for the day, too. We made great progress.”

“It wasn’t as bad as I made it seem. I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.”

“The relationship stuff aside, it sounds like once you find a job, most of your worries will be sorted out. And you may be blowing even that out of proportion. The Center’s gonna hire you.”

“Byulyi keeps saying the same thing.”

“There’s no reason they’d change your routine up for the final semester if they weren’t planning on offering you **something**.”

The words were comforting. And partially true. Director Choi followed through on his promise and paired Yongsun with a veteran Academic Advisor for the upcoming semester. In addition to learning tricks of the trade, her new mentor would help her formulate and codify a process for identifying and tracking the learning styles of incoming student-athletes. It was a big project, but something Yongsun had shown throughout her time at The Center that she was serious about—she’d successfully helped a handful of athletes improve their academic performance by tweaking study habits to better suit their preferences.

“Ugh, I love this song!” Wheein ran off to restart ‘Invitation’. In the meantime, Yongsun checked her cell phone for the first time in at least two hours.

One message:

**From: Byul-ah**

It’s official! Turkey-bound. Gave a verbal commitment today. _4:39 pm_

Not a surprise. Yongsun knew of the decision ahead of time. Since their car confessional the week before, the two were on the same page about that. What the decision meant for their relationship, neither knew. Mainly because Yongsun didn’t know, and it seemed Byulyi, for now, was fine waiting until Yongsun figured it out. She wouldn’t push. Yongsun was grateful for that. It was clear, though, that the athlete wanted more. And the graduate student figured Moonbyul would wait only so long before eventually growing tired of waiting for **some** type of commitment. **When** the time came, because it was coming, Yongsun worried she wouldn’t be ready. For sure not if it came any time soon.

Dating her best friend was as **big** of a decision as it was a foregone conclusion. Hesitating on giving the green light to a more-than-platonic relationship with Byulyi came from understanding the gravity of the decision. What they had was not a relationship to take lightly. They were a match in many ways. Yongsun didn’t question that. They **fit** together. Moon Byulyi was her **person**. Her best friend, the one that—in a relatively short amount of time—she came to trust with everything. With her life.

Committing to that serious of a relationship scared her. All cards on the table, it terrified her. As friends, they could argue, take some time away from each other if necessary, and then get back on track. There was nothing to lose. No matter what, Yongsun **knew** she and Byulyi would remain important parts of each other’s lives if they stayed friends. If they dated, things were not as guaranteed. If they dated and, for whatever reason, broke up, she’d lose both her best friend and her lover in one shot.

That was not a gamble Yongsun knew how to force herself to make.

On the horizon, she could see a happy life with Byulyi. A healthy, functioning relationship. Something even stronger and more durable than what currently existed between them.

But life was unpredictable. Try as she might, Yongsun couldn’t commit to what they **would** be because she worried about what **could** happen. Someone prettier catching Byulyi’s eye, a petty argument that spiraled out of control, who knows, the list was endless. Anything at any time could derail what looked, felt, and sounded like it **would** be a great relationship.

Heeding Wheein’s incessant calls to join her, though, Yongsun realized that the time for worry had passed. Now, it seemed, was the time to lip-sync for their lives to smooth 90s R&B.

She hastily typed a response lest Wheein forcibly drag her to the room’s center.

**To: Byul-ah**

I’m proud of you. _6:28 pm_

She meant it, and Moonbyul would understand that fully.

This was a moment that called for unwavering support and reassurance. Everything else would be discussed another time.

Yongsun slipped the cellular device into her pants, pocketing both her phone and the clouds hanging overhead that action plans and next steps weren’t as easily crafted for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We back. Hope you're all well ♥
> 
> Hwasa x Dua Lipa coming for necks.


	42. Reverse Psychology

There was something about doing workouts **with **Taecyeon.

Over winter break, Yongsun took her physical fitness more seriously, putting in the effort necessary to become more consistent. She did the **exact** same exercises that Taecyeon taught her. Did the **same** number of sets and repetitions he’d recommended. Improved enough to increase the amount of weight she was lifting and pushing. She’d even become more disciplined about stretching, starting every day with 30 minutes of mindful yoga. The workouts were challenging, but she had always found a way to get through them relatively unscathed.

Alongside Taecyeon though, her body ached and groaned, behaving as if this were the first she’d ever attempted anything more physically demanding than getting out of bed. Currently splayed out on the black rubber mat her workout buddy had thoughtfully set out for her, Yongsun mentally ran through the training session she’d only barely survived. It made no sense.

Her skin buzzed as beads of sweat languidly trailed down the expanse of exposed skin at her stomach, arms, and neck. The salty droplets tickled as they descended, eventually pooling at the base of her body but, oddly enough, concentrating on the sensation helped tremendously as she struggled to compose herself.

“I hate you,” Yongsun huffed. There was no true malice behind her words, mostly because she lacked the energy to bolster the statement. Taecyeon surely only heard because of his proximity, mat next to hers as he completed one last cooldown stretch.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. I was about to compliment you, actually. Your form has improved a lot and you’re much stronger.” Needing more time to recuperate the energy lost from speaking moments ago, Yongsun gave a husky grunt in response. Taecyeon chuckled before settling into a seated cross-legged position beside her and thumbing through notifications on his phone. “Our pic is getting a lot of attention.”

Even with her curiosity piqued, Yongsun couldn’t muster the energy to sit up and peek at his screen. The dull ache in her shoulders and thighs were setting in. “What kind of attention?”

“Good attention, I guess. For you, at least. A bunch of people are interested,” Taecyeon looked down at her, wagging his eyebrows.

“I’m dealing with enough mess, thanks.”

“You’re a hot commodity!”

“And you’re an idiot,” she scoffed, donning a small smile.

“Maybe so.”

Growing a bit more serious, Yongsun spoke up. “Are you **sure** your girlfriend won’t mind you posting that picture with me?” Before starting their session, the two took a few minutes to joke around. Standing in front of the mirrored walls, Yongsun and Taecyeon took pictures together to commemorate them resuming their gym partnership. Taecyeon asked for permission to post one of the pictures and, even though he assured Yongsun over and over that his girlfriend wouldn’t mind, the young woman felt the need to ask him once more. Her outfit for the day consisted of only a sports bra and leggings — some people were very particular about this sort of thing, not fans of their partners in close proximity to half-naked others.

“I wouldn’t have posted it if she’d have a problem with it, Yongsun. Are you sure **your** girlfriend won’t mind me calling us a dynamic duo?” He countered, alluding to the caption chosen for their picture.

“Shut up!” Yongsun jerked her arm out to slap his thigh, earning his deep-pitched giggles. Of course, imbued with energy, Taecyeon expertly dodged the lazy attempt. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Says the woman throwing a surprise celebration tonight for the best friend she has feelings for.”

“Hmm. Can’t dispute that,” Yongsun groaned as she sat up. Laying out the way she did had caused more harm than good. It allowed too much time for her body to lock up. A momentary reprieve from the pain came as her shoulder blades rested against the wall behind her.

“You should just confess. It’s easier that way. Worked for me,” Taecyeon haughtily shrugged his broad shoulders before double-tapping on some Instagram picture.

Staring incredulously at the man beside her, Yongsun contemplated bring him down a few notches. It wouldn’t have been hard. Only five months ago, this aggravating confidence was nowhere to be found. All pride was swallowed when he approached her after one of their workouts, rose-tinted face and all, to ask for help with asking out his now-girlfriend. Mentioning that day would have effectively cut him down to size, but Yongsun didn’t have it in her. Happiness looked good on Taecyeon. From all he’d shared — the man hadn’t stopped gushing about his relationship during their workout today, hence the reason she had yet to tell him about the confessions — things were going well for him and his partner. Her stomach **did** sting a little with bitterness though. How could some people have it **that** easy? He asked his crush out, she accepted, they dated, they started a relationship. Easy peasy. People that didn’t have feelings for their best friends had it made. Must be nice.

“Byulyi’s leaving,” Yongsun said instead of bringing up his past. It didn’t much matter now, she supposed. He was in a good relationship and her best friend was leaving. There were more important things than getting a few cheap laughs out of embarrassing him.

“Leaving?” Taecyeon gave her his full attention.

“Yeah. That’s what the celebration tonight is for. She’s going to Turkey.”

“Whoa, you didn’t tell me all of that! You just said she was going to play professionally. I assumed she’d stay in Korea.” The noncommittal hum Yongsun let out caused him to look at her sympathetically. She hated it. “How do you feel about it?”

“Does it matter?” Byulyi asked her the same question in the car last week, and Yongsun gave the same answer.

“I mean, yeah, it does,” he forced out a couple choppy, nervous laughs.

“I’m proud of her. I’m happy for her. I truly am. She’s **so** good, Taec. **So **good,” Yongsun breathed. “It’s really funny,” she started again, wearing a wistful smile, “when she first brought up the idea of going pro, I almost slapped myself for not having thought of it first. She deserves it.” And the young woman meant every word uttered.

“You care about her a lot.”

“I do. Which is why I hate that I’m souring the experience for her.” His confused face urged her to give more context. Yongsun explained the confessions, decided he didn’t need to know about the kisses, and skipped to her current situation — trapped by romantic feelings that threatened to ruin everything she and Byulyi had.

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

There wasn’t much else to be said. Neither spoke for several minutes.

“If she was staying, would you date her?”

“If she was staying, we wouldn’t be in this situation because she wouldn’t have confessed.” That was a frustrating truth to come to terms with. Byulyi would have stayed silent.

“Okay . . . but you **are** in the situation now. What do you want?”

“A guarantee that we’ll work.” The response was automatic. When it came the her and Moonbyul, **all** she wanted was to know for sure that she and her best friend would be okay if they became **more**. “I’ve had one relationship. That’s it. We did the best we could but it only lasted a handful of months. It was real, I won’t call it a fake relationship. And he was a sweetheart, but it didn’t work. That’s the extent of my experience with relationships. Going from **that** to a relationship with Byulyi? Oof,” Yongsun expelled a deep gust of air. “I don’t know. I’m the problem,” Yongsun suddenly changed the direction of the conversation, mumbling that last sentence more to herself than anyone else. “I don’t know how to really **be** in a relationship, and I don’t want to use a relationship with her as practice. I’d want to put my best foot forward. To make sure that we last, I’d **need** to put my best foot forward. And I don’t feel like I’m in a position where I could do that. Y’know?” Even if he didn’t, Yongsun needed her gym-buddy to pretend like he did. Pleading eyes conveyed her desperation for understanding.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Taecyeon nodded reassuringly. “But how do you get experience unless you date? You only get good at something by doing it.”

“That’s the dilemma, isn’t it? I don’t want to date anyone else, but I’m afraid of being bad at dating Byulyi.”

Although no one mentioned her, Seungyeon came to mind. Since their actions the previous Monday, the two exchanged messages, but that was all. Nothing else had happened and Yongsun wanted it to stay that way. Even with the mental limbo she’d found herself in regarding Byulyi, as each day passed, the graduate student grew more comfortable with admitting that the feelings she had for anyone else paled in comparison to what she felt for her best friend.

Seungyeon was everything Yongsun could have asked for — attractive, sweet, thoughtful, and patient. Yongsun learned a lot from her former schoolmate, including, unfortunately, that what she wanted more than anything else was to add what she had with Seungyeon to the relationship she had with Byulyi. Nothing proved that more than the fact that, even with a very skilled Seungyeon atop her last week, Yongsun could only wonder what it would feel like with her best friend.

Shame washed over her.

There was only so much Yongsun could control her thoughts and feelings on the matter, but, even so, it hurt that she’d essentially been using Seungyeon as an in-between. The other woman didn’t deserve that. At all.

And, yes, she was upfront and honest about wanting nothing more than a physical connection, but with all things said and done, did that make any of this easier to grapple with? During the window in which Yongsun **could** have considered dating Seungyeon, she had been thoroughly uninterested in anything of that nature. Now that she was open to the idea of — at some point in the future — dating and romantic relationships, only Moonbyul was on Yongsun’s mind.

“You should talk to her about it,” Taecyeon gently nudged Yongsun’s shoulder before standing up and extending a hand to her.

“People keep saying that,” the blonde woman reveled in feeling the air around her whizzing past as Taecyeon effortlessly pulled her up using only one arm.

“Maybe they’ll stop when you actually talk to her.”

“He gets in **one** relationship and thinks he knows it all . . .”

“I know that you and her have been inseparable for 1.5 years, that you have feelings for each other, and that when you talk about her you speak with an energy and passion that isn’t present when you discuss most other things. I also know that, at the end of the day, she’s the only one that can give you the answers you need in order to make the best decision for you.”

Thoughtfully, Taecyeon collected all of Yongsun’s possessions for her, meeting her by the gym’s entrance. They walked through the lobby and entered the elevator in silence, Yongsun needing time to gather her thoughts, Taecyeon understanding and letting her have it.

“No invite?” The muscled man shattered the silence as the elevator climbed passed the second floor en route to the third.

“Huh?”

“I gave impeccable love advice and you still haven’t invited me to this celebration you’re hosting.”

“Ah, I see,” Yongsun played along.

“Yeah. This is when you say, ‘Taec, you’re the best. To thank you for the best advice I’ve ever received, I’m inviting you to come get some free food and drinks.’ And I’ll say, “Ah, it’s nothing. Anything for a friend. Who am I to pass up free food and drinks though? Of course I’ll come join the celebration.’”

The bell dinged, door opening to the third floor, before Yongsun could catch her breath from laughing as hard as she was.

“Thank you for singlehandedly saving my love life and giving advice I’ve never before heard,” the petite woman bowed sarcastically, doing her best not to grimace at the pain the action caused. “There’ll likely be a bigger celebration in a couple months when she signs the contract and the deal goes public but it’s just the four of us tonight.”

*

“Wheein-ah. What do you mean you two aren’t staying the whole time?!”

“You tell her, Hyejin.” Wheein quickly pushed her best friend in front to serve as a shield.

“She means that we’re not staying the whole time, unnie,” the black-haired young woman robotically repeated Wheein’s words.

“Thank you, Hyejin,” Yongsun rolled her eyes. “I heard her the first time.”

“Then you shouldn’t have asked,” she mumbled and turned to climb onto Yongsun’s bed. The conversation no longer held any interest for her.

Upon entering her apartment, the ruckus coming from her bedroom momentarily confused Yongsun, until she remembered her plans for the evening. Halffway down the hall leading to her room, a high-pitched shriek confirmed her suspicions — Wheein and Hyejin. The two were on Yongsun’s bed, tucked comfortably underneath her comforters as they reacted to something on Hyejin’s phone. Noticing the older’s presence, Hyejin briefly looked at her before turning full attention back to her phone.

_“Chorong-unnie let us in,”_ was all she said.

Not even in her own damn home could she get some respect, Yongsun thought as she stood there in shock.

That was 15 minutes ago.

Now, she stood wrapped in a lavender towel with a second jade-colored towel masterfully tied on top of her head. Wheein casually shared that, despite the original plan, she and Hyejin would only stay a few minutes past Moonbyul’s arrival.

“It was supposed to a full-night affair, Wheein-ah!”

“I know,” the younger woman sulked, “but some of our other friends asked us last-minute if we wanted to go out with them and we said yes. **Only** because we turned them down before leaving for winter break. We’ll be here for unnie’s arrival though!”

“That’s not what she’s worried about, Wheein-ah,” Hyejin called out in a deadpan tone.

“What am I worried about, Hyejin-ah?”

Thumbs scrolling and eyes not leaving her phone’s screen, Hyejin didn’t miss a beat. “You don’t want to be left alone with Byul-unnie.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Yongsun scoffed, busying herself with picking clothes from her wardrobe.

“It’s not. Since you returned to campus on Tuesday, you haven’t spent time alone with Byulyi-unnie.”

“We saw each other last week and she’s been hanging out with her teammates since she got back to campus.”

Everything Yongsun was saying was true, Moonbyul had moved into the next phase of her rehab, easing into a return to basketball. She wasn’t yet participating in full contact, but Yujin was testing the reaction that Byul’s body had to shooting and light jogging. There was also the fact that the athlete was a team captain. It was important that she integrate herself once more into team activities, formal and informal. The two still messaged each other regularly. Things between them weren’t as weird as Hyejin was trying to make it seem.

And still. With all that said, with all that being true, there **was** an unintended edge to Yongsun’s voice when she responded to Hyejin’s assertion. Deep down — or maybe not that deep down — the graduate student **was** thrown for a loop by the wrench thrown into the group’s plans.

Given the fog clogging her brain, being alone with Byulyi wasn’t a problem if she had time to plan for it. However, Wheein’s announcement left her with little to no time to do so. They were going to call Moonbyul over in half an hour.

“Are you nervous being around her because of the confession? Or because of what happened with Seungyeon-unnie last week?”

“We’ve hung out since that happene–, wait. How do you know about that? I didn’t mention that to you.”

“I’m so glad you brought that up!” Hyejin sat up. “No, you didn’t mention it to me. I had to hear all of this from Wheein.” She lifted a sharp brow and stared at Yongsun questioningly. It was intimidating. It was effective.

“Hyejin-ah . . .” Yongsun tried her hand at smooth-talking her way out of things.

“Nope.”

“Hyejin-ah . . .” Yongsun cooed again, approaching the bed.

“No. Don’t even try it. If Wheein didn’t tell me, you wouldn’t have.”

Climbing onto the bed, and ignoring the dull ached the action caused, as well as the fact that only a towel covered her body, Yongsun wrapped her limbs around Hyejin, latching on for dear life.

“Hyejin-ah! You know I love you,” the blonde continued, ignoring Hyejin’s squeals.

“And yet you didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry.” The bevy of kisses hastily smacked against the younger’s cheeks proved effective. Upset Hyejin gradually melted away.

“You can stop now. I’m over it.”

“I **am** sorry that I didn’t tell you. I guess I get used to you and Wheein being so close sometimes; I assumed she’d tell you, but that’s not fair.”

“As long as you know.”

“Sorry,” she placed one last kiss against a tanned cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can get off me now. Save all this for Byulyi-unnie.”

“Maybe I will!” Hyejin wasn’t one that many succeeded against in fighting fire with fire, but Yongsun wanted to try nonetheless.

“Ohhhh. Wheein-ah! Unnie’s acting bold. She said she’s going to do this to Byulyi-unnie.”

Ambling in from, presumably, the kitchen, Wheein appeared with both hands full of snacks.

“Well, you’ll have lots of time to get busy with her after we leave,” she answered, more interested in her food than anything else.

“The two of you are ridiculous,” Yongsun removed herself from Hyejin, carefully climbing down from the elevated. She needed to get dressed.

“Is it really **that** ridiculous?” Hyejin asked. “Unnie’s very attractive.”

“Super good-looking,” Wheein added.

“I didn’t say that she wasn’t.”

“You’re talking like it’s the most far-fetched thing in the world for you to want to do stuff with her.”

“I’m not talking about this with the two of you. It’s weird.” Slipping on a sweatshirt and sweatpants, Yongsun entered her bathroom, shifting attention to her hair. If she actively ignored Wheein and Hyejin, they’d take the hint and stop. Maybe.

“It’s not weird,” Hyejin called after her. “Byulyi-unnie’s hot.”

From the corner of her eye, Yongsun saw two masses lean against the bathroom’s doorway.

“Do you really not think about doing things with her?” All mocking was gone, unbridled curiosity taking hold in Hyejin’s voice now.

“Hyejin, please.”

“Just asking.”

“Unnie, we get it. You don’t have to tell us everything that happens, but for yourself, if you want to do something, just do it. Remember how great that was for you over the summer? You got out of your head and just had fun. Loosen up a little and see what happens.”

“Byulyi-unnie would enjoy **anything**. Now that the two of have confessed, I can finally say that out loud. Goodness. That girl is **so** whipped. I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Hyejin, remember that time we were all hanging out and Yongsun-unnie was talking and Byulyi-unnie just stared at her with that dopey smile on her face?!”

“Which time?” Hyejin laughed as she asked.

“True.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you. That’s enough. Leave her alone.”

The young girls squealed. “Aww, you’re defending your woman!”

“Thank you, Hyejin. The conversation is over.”

“But it’s not! That was reverse psychology. We got you to defend her and now your heart is probably giddy over the fact that she’s super soft for you, so now you’re definitely gonna do something with her after we leave,” Hyejin smirked cockily.

“You’re welcome, Byulyi-unnie,” Wheein called out to no one in particular.

“She owes us one.”

“For sure.”

Answering them now would be pointless. Yongsun let them believe that their antics made a difference. It was easier that way.

*

Soon after finishing her hair, Yongsun called Byulyi. After training, the athlete had spent her Friday afternoon with teammates. She had been home for a few minutes before receiving the call.

The graduate student didn’t have to do much convincing. Yongsun told Byulyi she missed her — she did — and that she wanted to spend some time with her tonight — also true. Moonbyul immediately agreed to come over. Wheein and Hyejin ran off to the bedroom to laugh out loud at that without blowing their cover to an unsuspecting Byulyi.

Five minutes later, the three women were bunched together, pressed against the kitchen island. In front of them was a cake that had one single candle protruding from its center. Along the cake’s upper arc was a single word: “Congratulations!” An assortment of fruit everywhere else. Not as personalized as Yongsun would have liked, but she bought everything earlier in the day before her workout. They had to make do with what she could find.

Jarred from her thoughts by the series of beeps coming her keypad, Yongsun, Hyejin, and Wheein readied themselves to give as much energy as they could.

Byulyi hadn’t even crossed the threshold when a deafening scream of “Congratulations!” knocked her into a crouched position. Wheein and Hyejin ran to pull her into the apartment proper before both suffocating her with their simultaneous hugs. To call it heartwarming was an understatement.

Yongsun stayed back, preferring to give the third-years the space they needed to properly fawn over and celebrate a woman that, for them, was more a sister than anything else. They were witnesses to Byulyi’s entire career at SNU. Even though they wouldn’t say it today, Yongsun **knew** that this accomplishment held great meaning for Wheein and Hyejin. Whatever her relationship with Moonbyul was, the two of them had an equally unique relationship with the athlete, if not more so. She had to respect that.

“We’re gonna be rich!”

“We did it, Hyejin! We chose wisely and rode this thing out until the end! We’re set for life!”

“Maybe wait until I sign an actual contract and **receive** the money first before exposing yourselves. Clowns.”

“I don’t know. Three years?” Hyejin started. “Legally, you have to pay us. It’s, like, time served or something.”

“Definitely,” Wheein agree right away.

“I’ll have my people call your people,” Byul played along.

The scene unfolding before her was truly too cute.

She and Moonbyul hadn’t seen each other in over a week, time Yongsun spent fretting over what the hell to make of the mess she’d created with Byulyi. But now, watching from afar her best friend smiled and laughed as if she had no cares in the world, every worry evaporated. Just like that. None of her concerns had been solved, they still existed, but in that moment, none of them mattered. She was just happy for her best friend.

“Blow out the candle!” Like a ragdoll, the senior let her younger friends drag her further into the apartment and in front of the cake whose candle had been burning for some time now. Obediently, Byulyi blew her candle out and cut the cake — Hyejin and Wheein were ready to eat, they said, and needed her to move along with things.

The entire thing took 10 minutes and, not until the youngest two were sitting on the couch, satisfied with their slices of cake, did Yongsun and Moonbyul get to greet each other.

“Hey,” Byulyi smiled.

“Hey,” Yongsun smiled back.

“I know this was you.”

“Was it?” She played innocent.

“Yeah, it was.”

In no more than two bounds, the athlete approached her and lifted Yongsun into a hug, arms secured tightly around her waist.

“Thank you,” Byul whispered, the sound sending a shiver from the shell of Yongsun’s ear, rippling throughout the rest of her body.

“I’m so proud of you,” the older woman nuzzled her head into the crook of Moonbyul’s neck.

“I know.”

“I really, really am. And I’m happy for you, too.”

“I know, Yong.”

It was the sincerity in Byul’s voice that triggered it for Yongsun. Before even she realized what was happening, a small stream of tears began flowing down her face, dampening Byulyi’s neck.

“Yongsun-ah, why are you crying?” When met with only sniffles, Byulyi craned her neck backwards to get a proper look at the woman in her arms. “Don’t cry.”

“It’s happy tears.”

“Still. Don’t cry.” Still holding the blonde up with her left arm, the athlete gently padded away the liquid that remained under Yongsun’s eyes. “That’s better.”

The words of gratitude and appreciation that danced on the tip of her tongue weren’t shared. Yongsun was too stunned by how **good** Moon Byulyi was. The kiss she gave her on her cheek, she hoped, would suffice.

“You and these cheek kisses,” Moonbyul groaned.

“Oh? Not good enough? How about no kisses at all?”

“Did you know that my favorite type of kisses are kisses on the cheek? I don’t know what it is about them, they’re just my absolute **favorite**. I literally turn down any other type of kiss because kisses on the cheek are superior.”

“Idiot.”

*

**From: Hyejinie**

Have fun! 🥳

You’re welcome, btw, for turning the kitchen lights off for you.

(Wheein chose the emoji) _6:47 pm_

All they did was eat cake, eat food, take some drinks, then Wheein and Hyejin disappeared.

There was a good reason. They had to get ready for their evening out. Even so, when Wheein said they weren’t staying the whole time, Yongsun didn’t know she meant they’d leave 10 minutes after Moonbyul arrived.

The third-years extended an invitation to Yongsun and Byulyi to join them out, but with both women exhausted after their days, neither could muster the energy for much else. They ended up on Yongsun’s couch watching _Gone Girl_.

A soon as the door to the apartment closed after Hyejin and Wheein’s departure, the display of emotion that they were caught up in instantly turned into a suffocating silence. Unsure of what else to do, Yongsun awkwardly suggested they watch a movie. Byulyi awkwardly agreed. Initially, the younger woman sat a seat’s cushion away, to which Yongsun wanted to scream. The specifics around the future of their relationship was still to be determined, but things between them did **not** have to be this uncomfortable. When watching movies, they cuddled. To borrow Moonbyul’s verbiage, it was their “thing”. The uncertainty that hung between them was messing up their normal. The weight of guilt and responsibility for the state of things clamped on Yongsun’s heart. How would Byulyi know what was okay if she, Yongsun, had been nothing but a land mine over the past few weeks? She was unclear about what she wanted, leaving Moonbyul unsure about . . . well, everything.

Taking the initiative, the graduate student pulled the athlete closer about 20 minutes into the movie — she couldn’t concentrate on the film if Byulyi was too far away because then she’d only obsess over Byulyi being too far away.

As it turns out, that helped matters none. Yongsun still couldn’t focus on the movie. The couple readjusted themselves, lying horizontally on the couch, Byulyi behind with a hand draped **very** loosely and gently across Yongsun’s hip. As the characters on the television screen took turns being horrible people, her mind only processed Moonbyul: the haphazard patterns the athlete sporadically traced on her, the vanilla bodywash wafting off of Byulyi’s skin — definitely heightened by the warm air blowing from the vents above, the seniors heart thumping wildly against Yongsun’s back. It was all too much.

Recalling the thoughts evoked by her earlier conversations with Taecyeon, Wheein, and Hyejin, Yongsun wondered what was stopping her. Not from a relationship, she’d recited that many a time to herself, but from initiating anything beyond kisses on the cheek.

Honestly? Nothing.

Just earlier she’d admitted to herself that it’d be nice to do with Byulyi what she did with Seungyeon. She kissed Seungyeon. A lot. Why not kiss the woman behind her, too? Especially now that things with Seungyeon were on its last legs — Yongsun chose the next week to wrap things up. It was time.

It was because the feelings for Byulyi were stronger than those for Seungyeon, though, that she paused every time she mustered enough courage to consider turning around, facing Moonbyul and — for no reason other than because she wanted to — planting a kiss on the lips she could draw with her eyes closed. The gentle athlete made her nervous in a way that Seungyeon and others never did. It didn’t help matters any that Byulyi was **fine** with waiting, or so she said. Yongsun felt the spike in breathing every time her back “accidentally” brushed against the younger woman’s lower stomach. Even so, Moonbyul didn’t budge. Didn’t make a move. Didn’t do anything.

If Yongsun wanted something to happen, she’d have to initiate.

The opportunity came three-quarters of the way through the movie. She’d seen the film before. The plot twist was no longer one that incited any emotion from her, but Yongsun’s view of Amy Dunne remained unchanged.

“She’s beautiful,” she accidentally spoke her thoughts aloud.

“Hmm?”

“Her. The main character. She’s beautiful. Very elegant and classy. Put-together and smart. It’s hard to explain, but I wish I could be like that.” It’s a thought that came with each viewing of the movie. For all Amy Dunne’s faults, there was something about the character that Yongsun admired. That was a strong word. There was a command about the character that Yongsun wished she possessed.

“She’s an out-of-her-mind manipulator.”

“Well, yes. All the negative stuff aside, I wish I could be like her. Look at her clothes even. Elegant, but in a simple way? She always looks the part.”

No response came for a couple minutes, so she assumed that was the end of that.

Then Moonbyul spoke up suddenly.

“You’re already all of that, by the way,” she spoke low.

“Hmm?” Yongsun fully turned her body to face the brunette.

“I said you’re already all of that. Beautiful and elegant and classy. I do have my suspicions about the out-your-mind part too, though, but it’s still too early to call with that.”

“Shut up,” Yongsun playfully slapped Byul’s shoulder. There was no heat behind it.

“Jokes aside, I’m being serious.”

Neither woman had looked away yet, chatter from the television fading into white noise as all they saw and felt was each other.

“Why are you so good to me?” Yongsun cupped Byulyi’s cheek. It was a question she’d wanted to ask for a while now. Surely, there were others more ready that her best friend could invest time and energy into?

“Because you deserve good?” The response was tinged with incredulity, as if the senior didn’t understand why such a thing needed to be explained.

“Do I?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

Regardless of whether Yongsun agreed or not, the immediate response coupled with the determination set in Byulyi’s eyes sparked something in Yongsun.

_“You don’t have to tell us everything that happens, but for yourself, if you want to do something, just do it.”_

She wanted to kiss Moonbyul. Properly. So, she did.

The confidence would wear off soon, so Yongsun went for it. Her right hand still cupping Byulyi’s soft cheek, Yongsun eased in until their lips connected. That was the extent of what she had to do as Moonbyul took over from there. A death grip on her waist now, the athlete leaned in and controlled their pace — slow and sensual. The awkward, nervous pecks from their first time were absent. **This**, Yongsun assumed, was more aligned with how things typically went when Byulyi kissed people. It was solid, not an adjective usually used to describe such things, but it’s what Yongsun felt. Protected, taken care of, secure.

No tongue, only teasing lip bites, but the kissing was intoxicating and, surprisingly, erotic, nonetheless. Over and over, their lips melded against each other. It just felt **good**. It felt right.

They had to have been going for at least 10 minutes before Yongsun’s thoughts drifted to wondering how much things would escalate. Byulyi’s grip on her hips got tighter, her lips moved more hungrily. The athlete was growing in confidence, it didn’t seem she’d stop any time soon, and Yongsun was enjoying it too much to be the one to stop.

Until a growl? rumbled in Byul’s throat, forcing Yongsun to pull away suddenly as laughter bubbled up.

“What was that?” The blonde tried but failed to contain herself.

“What was what?” Byulyi’s hooded eyes showed no desire to discuss this much longer. She leaned in again, looking to once again capture lips between her own, but Yongsun gently place a hand against her chest.

“You growled. What was that?!” The fit of giggles spilled over into full-on cackles. It was just so random? Was that something people did regularly? Growling while kissing?

Collecting herself, Yongsun saw some of the intensity leave Byulyi’s eyes, the athlete able to appreciate the absurdity of what had just transpired.

“That was embarrassing.”

“It was cute,” Yongsun assured her, gently rubbing the pad of her thumb across the warming skin beneath her touch.

“I guess I growl when I’m really into it,” she joked softly.

“I guess so.”

“Mmm.”

Sometimes we must do things we don’t want to.

For Yongsun, that meant tearing her eyes away from Moonbyul’s and turning her body back around to face the television.

“We should finish the movie.”

“You can finish the movie; I’m going to catch my breath.”

“You do that.”

Silence.

“I told you I’m usually better at that,” Byulyi’s husky voice made sure to note, a reference to her endless apologies for their uncoordinated kisses a couple weeks ago.

“What do you want? Praise?”

“Yes.”

It was comfortable enough that they could both laugh at that.

Moonbyul placed one last kiss at the back of Yongsun’s head before letting her hand trail from the smaller woman’s hip to eventually rest on her stomach.

Yongsun met the hand on her stomach and interlaced her fingers with Byulyi’s long, slender ones.

From the rolling credits to the title screen to the movie restarting, the two remained in their position, enjoying and mentally replaying everything that happened. Both reluctant to pop the bubble of contentedness by discussing what all of that “meant” for “them”. It meant **something**. Obviously. That was good enough.

For now, they were happy just being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will now be on Tuesdays. I may very well end up still posting on Mondays, but we’ll see.
> 
> This is unedited. Don’t judge, that's rude. It’ll be edited later.


	43. Limbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some songs I listened to a lot while writing this chapter. Again, you can skip these if you'd like:
> 
> \- Dream Girl (Remix) by Ir-Sais and Bauw Alejandro  
\- Grateful by Mahalia  
\- Fragile by Eryn Allen Kane  
\- Fluid by Amaarae  
\- Yes/No by Banky W.

Time was a funny thing.

Byulyi vividly remembered the way pain and fear worked in tandem exactly one month ago to hold her in captivity. All that she knew to be true was seized in a matter of moments, snatched away like a necklace forcefully yanked from one’s neck. Sudden.

As she clutched painfully at her ankle exactly one month ago, the basketball star had internally pleaded and bargained with whichever deities were listening to, once more, place her sure-footed on a path that led to a future with basketball.

Exactly one month later, that’s exactly what she had. And it sucked.

“Yujin. Please,” Byulyi huffed.

“Is there pain or does it just hurt?” The stern-faced trainer looked on apathetically as Byul crouched down, desperately trying to suck in gasps of air.

“How am I supposed to know the difference?”

“Pain means something’s wrong, and if something was wrong, you’d know. Stand up.” Ignoring the young woman’s whines, Yujin continued. “You’re out of shape, that’s all. Physically and mentally. The ankle’s stable. We spent a month getting it back to good condition, it’s fine.”

There was no room for argument with Yujin. Never was, never would be. Other than Kwon Jihun, Byulyi couldn’t conceive of any other trainer as knowledgeable as the woman looking down at her now. If Yujin said the ankle was fine, it was fine. A 10-minute conditioning warmup leaving Byul winded had nothing to do with her ankle. There was no **pain**, her body just **hurt** from such rigorous activity having been foreign to her for so long. Lifting weights and running on the elliptical were challenging activities in their own right, but drills for agility and speed—complete with resistance bands, BOSU balls, and cones—were their own circle of fitness hell.

“Today we’ll work on your lateral movement and we’ll do some agility work. I want to get a baseline for where we are with explosion, but that can wait until Monday.” Yujin went into more detail afterwards, rattling off the exercises on the day’s agenda. Byulyi had not even a minute to compose herself before her trainer stood ready with a stopwatch in hand. “You know the first drill. Get in position. We’ll start now.”

Sure-footed on a path that led to a future with basketball. What she asked for a month ago is what she got.

*

She should’ve worn a headband today.

The hour crept by. Seconds felt like minutes . . . except they weren’t minutes. They were seconds, among the smallest increments of time, and they refused to pass any faster.

Now on the surviving end of the workout, the last vestiges of Byulyi’s energy and focus were directed towards ridding her eyes of the endless streams of perspiration clouding her vision. She was doing a shit job at it.

“Drink water.” The young woman turned to find Coach Do standing next to her. Of course it would be her, and of course she wouldn’t even spare Byul a glance. Still, the athlete obeyed and fetched herself a cup of water from the water cooler behind them. “You’re out of shape.”

That offhand comment evaporated between them, eventually overcome by the cacophony of sneakers squeaking, whistles being blown, and her teammates barking clipped commands to each other. All anyone had been mentioning today was her lack of physical fitness. Needing to maintain some semblance of dignity, Byul stood from her hunched over position.

“It’s not that bad.”

“And you’re favoring your right ankle,” Coach Do continued as if Byulyi hadn’t spoken.

“Well, it was injured. Not sure what you expect.” Thankfully, her coach didn’t comment on the edge in her voice. Instead, she shot Byulyi a look of warning before refocusing on the full-team scrimmage taking place.

“Keyword being ‘was’. Yujin told us the ankle’s fine. Coach Ok and I caught the tail end of your workout with her. There’s clear progress but you’re holding yourself back, you’re still thinking of yourself as injured. Even if you’re physically fine, until you get past that mindset, you won’t be medically cleared and you’ll like reinjure yourself.”

Well. What was there to say to that?

_“You’re out of shape, that’s all. Physically and mentally.”_ Yujin’s words from earlier rushed back to her. Mentally out of shape. A concept.

Her session with Yujin complete, Byulyi was finished for the day and free to take in the remainder of practice for the rest of the team. It wasn’t ideal—she’d much prefer participating instead of watching from the sidelines. Literally. Controlling the tempo of the game, locking opponents up defensively, the swell of cheers from an audience strengthening her every move—Byulyi desperately missed it all.

But there was a charm to spectating, she supposed. There were certain habits from teammates that she hadn’t noticed before: Minseo was always poaching in the lane, so the person she guarded was always open; Chaewon still didn’t know the plays; Jungmin was **good**, solid foundational skills and she moved without the ball **very **well. Deserving of more playing time. The senior was in the middle of mentally gushing over how dynamic the younger basketball player was when Coach Do sank into the seat next to her.

“The team’s been playing very well without you, but we all miss you. We could use your leadership on the court.”

“Are you trying to get back on my good side now after ripping into me earlier?”

“Byulyi, please,” her coach scoffed, “you’re about to be a professional athlete. You can’t be this thin-skinned. Nothing I said earlier was ‘ripping into you’. It was all facts.”

“Mmm.”

“You’re too sensitive. If that’s how you’re going to stay, playing professionally is going to be rough.” Once she’d gotten that point across, Coach Do decided on a less abrasive approach. “It’s nice that you could join the team for practices again.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Coach Ok misses you the most.”

“That’s hard to believe. She hasn’t said much of anything to me beyond occasionally checking in.”

“She’s trying to not put pressure on you to come back too soon but keeps asking me for updates. You should talk to her.”

“I’ll think about,” Byul tried to act nonchalant. Truthfully, though, her insides smiled at the idea of the usually-stonefaced coach missing her enough to clandestinely siphon progress reports from Coach Do.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You can’t talk to me like that! I’m a student,” Byulyi laughed.

“It’s a fact. I can’t get in trouble for telling the truth. You’re sensitive but also an asshole. A combination from hell. Ugh, that’s the third time Yeonmi turned the ball over,” she muttered distractedly.

“You’ll miss me when I leave.”

“**Are** you leaving?” The older woman challenged, attention back on Byulyi now.

“Yup. Gave a verbal commitment on Wednesday. Will need your help with visa stuff, though.”

“You’re helpless. You can’t do anything on your own.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” both women laughed out loud, earning a few stares from other team officials and players. It was common knowledge to expect chaos when these two got together. “You saw what happened last time I tried to go overseas.”

“We got to snatch you up. A win for us.”

The tension from earlier—all one-sided, of course—dissipated. Byul and Coach Do fell into their normal routine of sarcasm and playfulness. They laughed at inappropriate jokes and watched and critiqued the team’s practice together for the next 20 minutes before the question Moonbyul tried to hold back refused to be suppressed any longer.

“Hey,” she started softly, avoiding eye contact, “do you have any advice? About playing professionally, I mean.” As much shit as Byulyi gave her, Coach Do was no slouch as an athlete. The reason Moonbyul let the woman talk to her however she wanted was because Do Siwan **knew** what she was talking about when it came to basketball. Her resume spoke for itself.

“Don’t be soft.”

“I’m serious, Coach.”

“And so am I,” Siwan’s expression sobered. “It’s a job, Byulyi. It’s not university. Your coaches and teammates aren’t going to hold your hand through the process. They’re expecting you to come in and get serious. There’s big money being spent on you. Take everything seriously and don’t make anyone regret bringing you in. Do your homework. Be prepared. Minimize any distractions.”

That was along the lines of what she expected, but her heart dropped to her stomach nonetheless. “Doesn’t sound very fun,” Byulyi mumbled.

“It’s a lot of fun! Sometimes too much fun, that’s the problem. Outside of games and team-sanctioned training, everything’s on you. You have to watch what you eat, watch how you train, make sure you get enough sleep. As long as your head is on straight and you remember that your job comes before everything else, you’ll be fine.”

A few solemn moments of silence transpired before Byulyi felt a warm palm along the back of her neck.

“If you couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t have let you get this far in the process,” Coach Do gave a reassuring squeeze. “You know that, right?”

Byulyi simply shrugged.

“There’s no way I’d let you embarrass SNU’s reputation like that,” she chuckled, effectively putting an end to the sentimental moment.

“This is why I prefer Coach Kim,” Byulyi pushed her coach’s hand away.

“Oh please, he’s not as fun as me, and you know that.”

“Mmhmm. Whatever,” the young woman grumbled. “Can we watch film after practice?” It took Siwan some time to process just how quickly Byulyi had moved on to the next topic.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Don’t you have anything to do? No life of your own to live?”

Yongsun was viewing apartments today with Chorong, and then the roommates were going out later tonight so . . . “No. Not really,” heat melted across her face from slight embarrassment.

“What if I have plans?”

“You don’t, otherwise you would’ve said so already.”

“Smartass.”

“First I’m an asshole, now I’m a smartass. Starting to sense a pattern . . .”

“That you’re a thorn in my side? Thought I’d made that clear years ago.”

A sudden whistle blaring through the gym made both women pause — the team was getting a water break.

Deserting Moonbyul on the bench, Coach Do stood to huddle with the other coaches as the players flocked to the water cooler behind Byulyi.

“Wait, are we on for film later?” She called over the wave of chatter rising. The older women quickly gave her a thumbs up before switching into Coach mode with the other adults.

Byulyi wasn’t lying earlier when admitting that she had nothing else to do. If things went her way, she and Yongsun would spend the night picking up where they left off the night before—kissing. But, alas, things did not go her way. Yongsun was busy with Chorong all day. Annoying.

Quickly walking to the scorer’s table, the senior grabbed her cellphone and sent the subject of her thoughts a message.

**To: Yong**

I’m bored. _12:36 pm_

**From: Yong**

Aren’t you at practice? _12:37 pm_

**To: Yong**

Yeah, but I miss you. _12:37 pm_

She wouldn’t pressure the graduate student into a relationship, but Byulyi also refused to hide her feelings for Yongsun anymore. All cards were on the table. All of hers, at least.

**From: Yong**

You’re just saying that because of what we did last night. _12:38 pm_

**To: Yong**

Yes, and . . .? It still counts._12:38 pm_

**From: Yong**

😷 _12:39 pm_

**To: Yong**

That is the very opposite of what you were saying/doing last night.

You yesterday: 🥰 😘 🤗 😢_12:40 pm_

**From: Yong**

The last one 😂 _12:40 pm_

**To: Yong**

Gonna change your name in my phone to “My Crybaby” _12:41 pm_

She was pushing her luck with that last message. Thus far, Yongsun hadn’t retreated, hadn’t clammed up at the mention of their kissing the night before. That didn’t mean she never would, though, and Byulyi knew that even hinting at relationship-like concepts — any form of possessiveness or exclusivity, for example — like she just did might be the straw that would break the camel’s back and send Yongsun tripping over her feet as she rushed to backpedal.

**From: Yong**

Mmm. Well, it’s your phone. You do what you want with it.

We’re done eating lunch. Going to view more places now.

I’ll text you later. _12:42 pm_

The response could have been worse. Letting out the breath she’d been holding in, Moonbyul sent one final message before she, too, returned to what she’d been doing.

**To: Yong**

Kk! Send pics!

(Of the apartments!)

(Or of yourself . . . lol. Jk.)

(unless . . .?)

(jk. Stay safe. I’ll ttyl) _12:44 pm_

*

Heeyeon lazing on the living room couch was the first image Byulyi was treated to upon entering their apartment. A hint of jealousy bubbled up within her at how carefree her roommate appeared. Weekend practices and trainings were a thing of the past for Heeyeon. How lovely.

“Look at you, living life to the fullest,” she bitterly announced her presence. “Trying to soak up the last moments of freedom now before business school snatches it away on Monday?”

“You’re projecting,” Heeyeon smoothly deflected the whining. “What did Yujin do to you today to have you acting **this **childish?”

“The thing is, it wasn’t even that hard of a workout, I’m just weak now,” she pouted as she shuffled over to the couch. Motioning for Heeyeon to make space for her, Byulyi plopped onto the seat.

“You’re not weak, you’re coming back from an injury. Your ankle rehab is done, but it takes time to get back into basketball shape, Byul. All the lifting you were doing before is nowhere near the same as playing. You know this.”

She did. It didn’t make the process any less frustrating though.

“What did Coach Ok say?”

“Nothing, really. But Coach Do said Coach Ok misses me and that I should talk to her.”

“I believe it. You know how she is. And you’re one of her favorites, so even though her face was probably made of stone all day, her heart was probably jumping for joy seeing you up and moving.”

“Shut up,” Byulyi blushed.

“It’s true. After me, you’re her fave.”

“After you?!”

No matter how a serious conversation was taking place, these two found something to be competitive about. Byulyi’s rehab long forgotten, the young women spent the next few minutes citing what they believed to be concrete evidence of Coach Ok favoring them more than the other. They both received texts from their coach wishing them a happy holiday season, Byulyi got a phone call once, and Heeyeon received a video call, but Coach Ok’s video had been turned off so, in effect, it was a phone call. Both had been introduced to the older woman’s husband. The score was deadlocked.

“She helped get me started with pro prospects!”

“She did the same for me, too,” Heeyeon rolled her eyes. “There were offers but I wasn’t interested.”

“Damn. We’re tied then.”

It was how seriously Moonbyul was taking this, her furrowed eyebrows and lips scrunched in contemplation, that made her roommate burst into laughter.

“You’re a **loser**, Byulyi. Don’t you have anything better to worry about other than figuring out if Coach Ok loves you more?”

Thinking once again about Yongsun and how busy she was, the senior answered honestly. “Nope.”

“Where’s unnie? You usually go bug her when you’re jobless like this.”

“She’s with Chorong all day today, and she’s going to her parents’ home tomorrow.”

“Ugh, you’re going to be so annoying this weekend,” Heeyeon groaned.

“Honestly, yeah,” Byulyi chuckled. “Was that my cake you were eating?” The plate on the table in front of them caught her attention. The residue looked like that of the cake Yongsun surprised her with last night.

“Obviously. What other cake would I be eating. It was really good! Where did you get it?”

“Yong got it for me last night. Had a small get-together to celebrate my verbal commitment to Fenerbahçe.”

“And somehow I didn’t get an invite,” Heeyeon drawled.

“When I say small, it was literally just the four of us. Wheein and Hyejin left after a few minutes, so, really, it was just me and Yong.”

“Sounds like the young ones did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t think of that at the time, but now that you mention it, that does sound a lot like something they’d do,” she mused.

“Okay, so you spent the evening with Yongsun-unnie. Alone. What was that like?”

“I’m so glad you asked!”

Byulyi beamed as she gave Heeyeon a play-by-play of the evening. It was normal to tell her roommate about what happened with the women in her life, but that’s usually all it ever was — telling Heeyeon about what happened after the fact. Byulyi was good with women. No matter the situation, she could smirk, flirt, or talk her way out of or, when the mood struck her, into trouble. Yongsun was the first woman that she was at a complete loss with. Conversations with Heeyeon became less of simply telling her what happened with Yongsun, and more of desperately seeking advice on what her next steps should be. The kiss from the night before was perfect. Everything that Byulyi thought she and Yongsun could be converged in that moment. It felt **right**. The response Yongsun gave her earlier during practice, though . . . Moonbyul wasn’t sure if they were back to being on different pages.

“Might be time you stop asking me what to do next and start asking Yongsun-unnie,” Heeyeon coolly recommended. The show she’d been waiting on was finally starting. “Or you could trust that you have it in you to make the correct decisions and figure it out on your own.”

“You’re brushing me off for a show that you could watch later.”

“I’m not brushing you off, Byul. I don’t know what unnie’s thinking. Unless you ask her, you won’t either. All we know is that she likes you, which means you’ve done well enough for yourself thus far to get her interested in you.”

That . . . wasn’t the worst advice.

“I can work with that.”

“Awesome. Now, you’re welcome to stay and watch, but if you’re going to do that, you have to be quiet.”

“Pass. Going to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

The pressure from the showerhead in the locker room did a magical job of kneading out the knots in her body, but it left Byulyi zapped of any remaining energy. Just as Heeyeon’s schedule would grow hectic once classes started on Monday, Byul’s would, too. Maybe spending one day doing nothing but sleeping was a luxury she should make the most of while still available.

Bidding Heeyeon farewell, Byul shuffled to her room. Once her hand held onto the knob, she remembered something that all her teammates took turns drilling into her head after practice.

“Yeonie!” She called from down the hall.

“What?” Heeyeon yelled back.

“There’s a big party next Saturday. The men’s fencing team is hosting it. Wanna go? It’s supposed to be **the** party to start the semester.”

“I’ll leave it to the young people.”

“We’re the same age!”

“Then you should leave it to the young people, too.”

“Never mind. I’ll go with the team.”

Only a grunt came in response. Her roommate was fully engrossed in her show now. Byulyi got the message and entered her room.

Resting on her bed, a calming playlist churned out tunes that put Byul’s mind at ease. Soft sunlight filtered in through the window next to her bed, adding a comfortable warmth. It was peaceful.

Just as the senior felt herself succumbing to a much-needed sleep, her music temporarily paused when a message came in. Lazily reaching over for the device, she checked on who it was. Reflexively, her face lit up.

**From: Yong**

This one was nice:

[Attachment: 1 image]

[Attachment: 1 image]

Oh, and here 🙄: [Attachment: 1 image] _3:16 pm_

**To: Yong**

You sent pics of an apartment! It looks spacious!

And you sent a pic of yourself. You look beautiful 🥺 _3:16 pm_

**From: Yong**

You told me to send both. _3:16 pm_

**To: Yong**

😎 _3:17 pm_

Maybe Heeyeon was onto something and Byulyi really **was** better at this than she thought. The thought sent her to sleep with a renewed sense of confidence.

*

Throughout the week that followed, Byulyi and Yongsun weren’t able to see each other as much they would have liked. Once classes started, they were both unexpectedly inundated with the responsibilities of what would be their **last** semester of school. Yongsun not only had classes, there were also meetings for her capstone presentation, she still worked 10 hours with athletes at The Center, and when not working with athletes, she was shadowing the Academic Advisor that Director Choi paired her with.

They’d navigated hectic schedules before, their tried and true method of spending time together being sleeping over at each other’s apartments. With that, no matter how busy their days, they’d end their nights together. Since the mutual confessions, though, the limbo they were in stripped them of that option. Yongsun didn’t mention the sleepovers, Byulyi was too nervous to.

They still made an effort though. Moonbyul popped into The Center a few times that week—her heart racing each time at the joy on Yongsun’s face from seeing her—and Yongsun made sure to buy and deliver dinner to Byulyi’s apartment a couple times. With the senior back into more rigorous training, the older woman purposely set time aside to make sure Moonbyul was eating properly. Of course, among all of that, they maintained conversations via text and phone calls. Part of Byul wondered if this is what their relationship would be reduced to after she left.

She kind of hated the idea of that.

Given all of that, the athlete woke up the following Sunday not only severely exhausted from the previous night of partying, but also in desperate need of Yongsun’s touch. It was potentially the third day of no Yongsun. They had dinner together on Thursday, but, back with the team now, Byulyi traveled with them to an away game on Friday, and she spent all of Saturday with them, too, the party included. Before another congested week began, she needed time with Yongsun.

Eyes closed, the athlete reached for her phone from the night table beside her bed before opening exactly one (1) eye to gauge the time. _2:48 pm_.

“Fuck.” She got home around 5:30 am, quickly washed her face, then fell into bed, barely managing to remove her party clothes beforehand. Now, not only had she slept a good chunk of the day away, her head thumping and her throat was irritated. It seemed that standing next to massive speakers all night and straining one’s voice to be heard over the music had a way of causing adverse effects.

It wasn’t only the time that surprised her, it was also the fact that her phone was covered in notifications. Twitter, Instagram, SNOW, texts. Byulyi hadn’t had even **one** drop of alcohol—the team couldn’t drink during season and, even though she could because she wasn’t active right now, as the captain, the athlete felt it her responsibility to lead by example—but the events of last night were still fuzzy to her.

“Who do all these numbers belong to?” She groggily asked herself. Opening one message, Byulyi read “_This is Hyumjoo! Save my number_ 😘_”_ before quickly exiting the messenger app altogether and navigating to her “favorite” contacts. While the phone rang, much too loudly for her liking, bits and pieces of the party came back to her.

She’d interacted with **a lot** of women last night. That was not the intention going into the evening, but it just happened. Some walked up to her and started talking, so she talked back because anything else would have been rude. Others were straightforward in their flirting and touching, both of which Byulyi didn’t think she returned—she definitely did **not **touch anyone last night—but the influx of unsaved numbers in her messages told a different story about the flirting.

All of that became secondary once the person on the other end of the call finally answered.

“Byul-ah.”

“Yong.” She sounded like shit and she knew it. Her voice came out gruff.

“What?”

“Come over.”

“No.”

“Why not? I want to cuddle.”

“So cuddle with your pillow,” Yongsun said. The ‘tick tack’ of her fingers striking against what had to be keyboard keys traveled through the phone. She must have been in the middle of working.

“I want to cuddle with you.” If she were in better condition, Byulyi would have considered being more understanding, but she wasn’t. She was cranky and tired and wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep with Yongsun in her arms.

“Byul-ah, I’m busy,” Yongsun answered gently. She wasn’t annoyed or angry. That was a good sign.

“Yong, please. I feel like shit, just come over. I want to hold you.”

Moments of silence dragged by.

Despite the exhaustion set in her bones, Moonbyul fist pumped aggressively when she heard the heavy sigh that trickled through the speaker.

*

They were puzzle pieces that fit perfectly.

Yongsun arrived minutes after ending their phone call. She took one look at Byulyi, rolled her eyes, then climbed onto the bed and into the senior’s awaiting arms. Sighing contentedly, Byulyi wrapped her bare arms around the older woman’s body, holding her in place as they lay chest to chest.

“I missed you,” the athlete rasped.

“Mmm. I missed you, too. Judging by your voice, you had a good time last night,” Yongsun breathed a small laugh.

“It was okay. I should’ve stayed in with you though.”

“You don’t have to do that,” the graduate student sighed. “Don’t think you have to stop hanging out with your friends or whatever for my sake. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“I didn’t say it for your benefit, I said it because I meant it.”

“Okay, whatever.”

“It’s really nice right now, us being together. Can you not get an attitude just because I said I would’ve preferred to hang out with you instead of partying?”

“I’m not getting an attitude.”

“You sound like you’re getting an attitude.”

Somehow, they’d ruined the good start they had.

“What’s the problem, Yong? Because there’s no way the issue can be the fact that I want to spend time with you.”

The graduate student took her time, sighing and speaking up moments later. “I don’t want us to start acting differently just because of whatever’s happening between us.” She sounded defeated, as if the very same words she’d only just spoken had been uttered several times before. “You can hang out with your friends, you can go to parties, do what you normally do. I want us to stay **us**,” she spoke barely above a whisper.

“That’s fine. I want that, too. When I said what I said, all I meant was that the party was fun but spending the night with you would’ve been better. That’s it. That’s all I meant.”

Hearing no response, Byulyi closed her eyes, prepared to fall asleep to Yongsun’s steady breaths.

“I’m sorry for getting snippy,” the graduate student eventually spoke up.

“You apologizing? The world’s end is near.”

“Shut up!” Yongsun weakly slapped Byulyi’s hip.

“You said you don’t want whatever’s happening between us to affect how we behave. **What** is happening between us?” Remembering Heeyeon’s words from the week before, Byulyi bit the bullet and asked what she’d wanted to ask since the confessions. “And I’m not asking that to pressure you into anything, I just want us to talk about it so that we’re on the same page.”

A tickling sensation shot up her arm as Yongsun removed one of Byulyi’s arms around her waist and began tracing the web of green-blue veins along the inside of the athlete’s wrist. For minutes, that was all she did, her chest still rhythmically falling up and down against Moonbyul’s. Time danced by before the graduate student interlocked her fingers with Byulyi’s. Immediately, the younger woman lifted their joined hands to her lips, gently kissing Yongsun’s knuckles. She then placed a kiss atop the head that was tucked underneath her chin.

“Say what you need to say, Yong.”

“I’m scared,” she confessed.

“Of?”

“Everything. I’m scared of losing our friendship if a relationship doesn’t work, scared of losing you. I’m scared of not being enough for you. Scared of real life getting in the way and being too much for us to overcome.”

Those were all valid and, no matter how much she wanted to, Byulyi couldn’t promise Yongsun that none of that would happen. She felt that is was all **very** unlikely but couldn’t give the guarantee that she knew Yongsun was looking for.

“Whatever you want is what we’ll do,” Byul said instead, looking to assuage her best friend’s fears.

“What do **you** want? It’s no fair if only my wishes are taken into consideration.”

“You,” the athlete said immediately and resolutely. “That’s all I want. Woke up this morning with a bunch of new numbers in my phone and I hated it. It didn’t feel right. I just want it to be you and me.” Moonbyul tried her hardest not to react when she felt Yongsun sigh against her.

“I’m not ready for a relationship. And I feel like shit for saying it, but I’m just … not there yet. I still feel like we have too much to lose if things go wrong,” Yongsun said, attempting to pull her hand away from Moonbyul’s, but the athlete held firm.

“And what about if things go right?”

“It’s a big risk.”

“And I think we’re worth that risk.”

“Look, I’m not disagreeing, I’m just saying I’m not ready, Byulyi. It’s different for you. You’ve been with other people; you’ve had your fun. You’ve done relationships, you’ve done hookups. You **know** how it all goes. I don’t have that experience. A relationship **this** big scares me. It’s a big fucking deal and . . . I’m not trying to freak out on you, but it’s fucking scary to be 24-years-old and know that I’ve likely found the last relationship I’ll ever be in.” Her voice began to crack.

“Look,” the senior rubbed soothing circles on Yongsun’s lower back, “I’m not trying to force you into anything, we can take our time, Yong. There’s no rush. If you know that down the line, you want us, I’m fine going as slow as you need. We’re past being just friends. It’s impossible to go back to that, but I’m fine with the in-between for now: not being in a relationship but being more than platonic.”

“That’s, what? Friends-with-benefits? I’m not doing that to you.”

“It’s **fine**. I promise. I’m fine with it.” The woman on top of her stiffened.

Everyone knew Moon Byulyi didn’t do friends-with-benefits. She didn’t do fuck buddies. Not anymore, at least. Now, she was all about romance and exclusive relationships.

“You don’t do friends-with-benefits, and I can’t—I won’t—in good conscience, ask you to do it now.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering. If it’s for you, I’m fine with it. I’m serious about you and I’ll do whatever’s needed to make sure we work out. If that means starting as friends-with-benefits for the time being, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Byul-ah –” the older woman started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Yongsun, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay? Say no if **you **want to say no. Don’t say no because you’re worried about me. No matter how we cut it, we’d have to start slow anyway. This is one way to ease into things.” Her voice was soft, but her words were determined.

With bated breath, Moonbyul waited for **any **reaction from Yongsun. That’s all she’d be doing for the foreseeable future: waiting for Yongsun. And she’d defend the decision to do so to anyone that questioned it.

In what felt like forever later, Yongsun nodded.

“Yeah to us being officially more than friends but less than a relationship?” Byulyi asked for verbal confirmation.

“Yeah.”

“You can say no.” Despite her excitement at the prospect of their new status, the senior wanted to give Yongsun an out if she needed one.

“I’m saying yes.”

“Phew,” Byul heaved a deep sigh. “Wow. We’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this.”

“I promise on everything I’ll take care of you, Yong.”

“We **have** to work, Byulyi. We have to.”

“We will. I know we will.”

Neither said much else for the remainder of the day, Yongsun just held onto Byulyi tighter, both of their minds racing before sleep overcame them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling like the cat’s out of the bag about where I live. It’s been exposed by the fact that it’s still Tuesday where I am lol.
> 
> There’s a lot of content already written for this next phase. Things start moving faster from here on out, I believe. For those wondering, there are two main “phases” left: before Byulyi leaves for Turkey and after Byulyi leaves for Turkey . . . because she’s leaving for Turkey. That is not up for debate. It’s happening.
> 
> Another thank you to @tova_nori on Twitter for the “loosely based snapchat draws”. I really and truly love them and am grateful that this story has inspired such wonderful art! Check the pieces out [here](https://twitter.com/Tova_nori/status/1243475898789052416?s=20), and, if you would like to, you can support them on their patreon [here](https://www.patreon.com/tovanori).
> 
> Thank you to everyone that reads this story and to those that recommend it to others (if they don't like or want to read the story, that's okay!)! Thank you to everyone that subscribed! Thank you to everyone!


	44. Breakup #2

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**yongsun** President of her fan club.

View all 15 comments

**yongsun** Anyone with sense would know I didn’t post this 🙄

20m 3 likes Reply

|**yongsun **@yongsun It’s on **your** account! Who else would post here?

|**yongsun** @yongsun Childish.

**hyejin** Stay away from Yongsun-unnie! Get a job!

10m 5 likes Reply

|**yongsun **@hyejin What do you mean? I posted this.

**heeyeon **Why do I find this cute? 🙊

|**yongsun** @heeyeon 😎

**taecyeon** The fact that I know who posted this makes it better 😂

|**yongsun** @taecyeon Yes, I posted this?

**chorong** Both of you are idiots. Please lower your voices, I’m trying to get work done.

|**yongsun** Sorry 😰

Add a comment . . . 

“You got me in trouble with Chorong,” Yongsun gave Byulyi’s shoulder a strong slap. That was it. That was what sent her and Moonbyul into a fit of laughter that had lasted for the past 10 minutes.

It was stupid. **They** were stupid.

What preceded all of this was Moonbyul posing as Yongsun and posting a picture of herself on the older woman’s account. The picture in question was one that Yongsun took of her a couple of nights ago.

_Knee-deep in work, she looked traitorously at the cell phone that violently vibrated atop the wooden desk she sat at. Elbows propped against the table and head in her hands, the graduate student contemplated silencing the call and diving back into the report she desperately needed to complete before going to bed. Peeking at the name and picture flashing across the screen, though, Yongsun couldn’t find it in her to do such a thing._

_“Hey,” she sighed, the exhaustion coating the one syllable uttered._

_“I’m bored.” Right to it._

_“How am I supposed to help with that?”_

_“Let’s go for a drive.” Rubbing her eyes, Yongsun let out a deep breath. Byulyi just sometimes made **no** sense._

_“It’s after 1:00 a.m., Byul-ah.” The graduate student made sure to enunciate each word as if talking to a toddler._

_“I know.”_

_“Okay . . .” _

_“I was working on an assignment but got hit with a sudden lack of motivation. Driving around always makes me feel better.”_

_“I think you didn’t hear when I said that it’s after 1:00 a.m.”_

_“I know,” she repeated, as if, given the situation, her request made a lick of sense. “And I know you have work at 9:00 am It’ll be quick. Promise.”_

_“Byul-ah . . .”_

_“It’ll be **quick**. I promise you. Plus, you sound like you could use the break.”_

Of course, Yongsun gave in. And, of course, after trudging to the parking lot, the pair ended up not driving anywhere. They just sat in the stationary car, lights off, the soft purr of the engine and the warm air from the vent the only sounds offsetting the quiet morning.

In the photo, Byulyi sat in the driver’s seat of her car wearing a cap and an oversized navy-blue hoodie. Phone in her hand, she had looked up at Yongsun calling her name with a smoldering look in her eyes. Truthfully, it stirred something within the older woman, being the subject of such a gaze. Until she remembered that Moonbyul dragged her out of her room and away from her schoolwork, only to ignore her while she sat there the entire time scrolling through her phone.

The picture was meant to document the mistreatment. But now Moonbyul had made it public.

What was worse was the fact that the senior posted the same picture on her own Instagram account with the caption “paparazzi 📸”. Yongsun nearly throttled Byulyi right then and there but, try as she might, all steam left her when the athlete began laughing uncontrollably at her mischievous actions. In fact, she ended up joining Moonbyul. They sat on the living room couch just laughing—their dinner forgotten and devoured long ago—, Byulyi’s head resting on Yongsun’s shoulder after the strength of her amusement tipped her over.

They were truly just idiots. Nothing about any of this was even that funny.

“You’re like a big baby,” Yongsun whined after finally catching her breath from laughing so hard.

“So baby me,” Byul pouted into her neck.

“Ew.”

Her faux disgust sent them into another wave of irrational hysterics. Both she and Byul knew Yongsun enjoyed every moment of this ridiculousness.

In the two weeks since agreeing to be “friends-with-benefits”, the pair had grown more physically comfortable with each other. Or, rather, they’d made their way closer to their old normal, when they’d instinctively touch and cuddle and hug all the time. They had to relearn and reacclimate themselves to all of that, slowly picking away at the awkwardness around what used to be routine behavior. Byul nuzzling into her neck was evidence of the ground they’d regained.

“How were you even able to sign into my account on your phone?”

“Remember that one time you used it to sign into IG? You never signed out,” she felt Byul shrug.

“That was **one **time last year! Anyone else would have logged out like a normal person.”

“I’m not normal. That’s what’s so attractive about me.” The athlete didn’t miss a beat. Those words came immediately. Yongsun was disgusted.

“Ew! You are so gross.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe that was a bit much,” Byulyi giggled, the admission sending both women, once again, into boisterous laughter.

“Yongsun, seriously! Shut up! I am trying to do work and I can’t concentrate because, even with my door closed, I can hear the two of being stupid and annoying.”

Chorong wasn’t usually as easily aggravated as she was tonight. Only a couple weeks into the semester, both graduate students were inundated with more work than they felt they could handle, but that wasn’t the cause of her roommate’s irritability. Well, not the full cause—Chorong and Insoo were in the middle of their biggest fight since their relationship officially began 2 months ago. The other woman had been snappy and cranky all week. Prolonging the conversation, at this point, would do more harm than good.

“Sorry, Rongie. We’ll go to my room,” Yongsun immediately apologized in a subdued manner. Gently nudging Moonbyul to get up, the graduate student promptly cleared their dishes before escaping to her bedroom with the younger woman in tow.

“I was actually afraid,” Byulyi said as soon as they’d entered the bedroom and closed the door.

“Me, too,” Yongsun exclaimed. She bent over laughing, albeit it at a lower volume—still worried Chorong would hear them from the other end of the hall—while Moonbyul flopped onto Yongsun’s bed and got comfortable.

The room fell into a comfortable silence after that. Yongsun flung her cell phone onto the bed, not worried about where it landed and traipsed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. The time alone, no matter how short-lived, was much needed. It allowed her time to **think**.

Yongsun knew that what Moonbyul wanted was for them to be in a relationship. Not the still-ambiguous space they currently occupied, but an actual relationship with . . . well, with everything they already did **and** the added security, for Byulyi anyway, of labels.

And yet, despite what she so clearly wanted, Moonbyul had been extremely patient with her, even going as far as offering this friends-with-benefits thing to ease some of Yongsun’s worries. Truthfully, she was in awe of the younger woman’s selflessness, taken aback by how determined Byul was to make her feel **safe**. To make her feel **loved**. That’s the emotion the graduate student felt emanating from her best friend in waves. Love. Byulyi loved her so damn much. Even without the words being verbalized, Yongsun could feel it.

It scared her shitless. The fear that she was unworthy of and unable to live up to the expectations that came with **that** **much** love sat in her gut like a log, weighing her down with trepidation.

“Your phone’s buzzing,” a deep voice floated from the bedroom, completely unaware of the self-induced freakout Yongsun was experiencing.

“Is it Chorong again?” The end of the question was punctuated with her spitting out toothpaste from her mouth.

“Nope, one of your other friends.” The sudden cryptic reply was a stark difference from the Moonbyul of moments ago.

“Which friend?” Yongsun prompted. All of her friends knew Byulyi, and Byulyi knew all of her friends. The behavior was strange.

“Seungyeon,” she responded stiffly. There was an extra edge in her tone, too, some agitation, Yongsun thought. As if it were a betrayal that Yongsun would force **that** name to come from her lips.

“Mmm.” The older woman wasn’t sure what else to say.

It was almost guaranteed that Seungyeon was texting to confirm their meetup the next night, the meetup Yongsun suggested so that she could end things. But Seungyeon didn’t know that, and it felt a violation of the other woman’s privacy to share the news with Byulyi first. Even if it would calm the athlete down, it didn’t sit right with Yongsun to do such a thing.

And so, she bore the eerie quiet as Moonbyul lay on the bed scrolling through her phone, the jovial mood from earlier completely washed away. For minutes, Yongsun gingerly meandered around her room as she completed her nighttime skincare routine and changed into her pajamas. Being on bad terms with Byulyi was never a spot she enjoyed being in, though, so, once she finished everything, Yongsun timidly climbed into her spot on the bed and launched into a silly story from her day hoping it would warm the athlete up.

It did not.

The woman beside her lay on her back, eyes buried in her phone, barely listening to anything Yongsun was saying. No head nods, no clarifying questions, not even an emotionless “mmm” to **pretend** that she was paying attention. No. The young woman wanted to make it very clear that she was sulking, and she did so by repeatedly passing her thumb along the face of her cellphone. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.

At one point, all she did was refresh Instagram repeatedly—Yongsun had a clear view of Moonbyul’s phone. It would have been funny if it weren’t so frustrating.

Suddenly, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to sleep.”

The announcement took Yongsun by surprise. A small part of her hoped that they’d end the night in higher spirits, but she dejectedly accepted Byulyi’s decision.

What was more of a surprise was that the brunette tucked her phone away and rolled off of the bed. They’d been easing back into sleeping together more often over the past couple weeks, so Yongsun assumed this would be one of those nights.

_It was growing late and Moonbyul was still over. Not that Yongsun minded. Since everything went down with their confessions and kisses and change in relationship status, sleepovers became a thing of the past. Yongsun felt the awkwardness around the topic and steered clear of it. Byul did the same. But tonight, the graduate student didn’t much feel like sleeping alone. The two were cuddling on her bed, Byul watching Fenerbahçe games on her phone, and Yongsun watching Byul watch Fenerbahçe games on her phone. It was nice. She didn’t want it to end._

_But it was getting late._

_“Alright,” the younger woman started, “I think I’m gonna head out. Starting to get tired.” She said all that but made no move to extract herself from Yongsun._

_Five minutes of neither woman changing the position they were in, Yongsun ignored the knocking against her chest and shyly spoke up. “It’s late and we’re already comfortable. You could spend the night if you want.”_

_“I mean, yeah, if that’s what you want. That’s cool with me,” Byulyi hedged._

_“Yeah, it’s cool with me,” Yongsun shrugged lightly, all part of her great effort to appear nonchalant._

The athlete so ready now to scamper off was a surefire sign, then, that the text from Seungyeon was affecting her more than she wanted to show.

After collecting her things, Yongsun watched disappointedly as Byul walked off. The younger woman reached the bedroom door and stiffened with her hand on the doorknob before doubling back and placing a brief, close-mouthed peck on her lips. Yongsun didn’t remember when, but goodnight kisses quickly became a regular part of their nightly routine. Tonight’s hard and fast smooch was miles away from the ones imbued with a passion that they usually shared. Before she could caress Byulyi’s face as she usually did, the kiss was over.

Still, Yongsun supposed, what she got was better than nothing. Even when upset, Byulyi didn’t leave things fully on a bad note. She took solace in that.

“Goodnight,” the athlete grumbled after pulling away.

Her farewell died on the tip of her tongue as Moonbyul stalked off, not waiting for Yongsun to say it back.

*

Byulyi had a 9:00 am class. This Yongsun **knew**. So the fact that she didn’t receive a “good morning” message from the athlete until noon spoke volumes. It wasn’t even that Yongsun cared for the messages, she could do without them and had told Moonbyul this on several occasions. Still, the younger woman insisted on sending them soon after waking up. The fact, then, that today’s message came as late as it did . . . the text from Seungyeon was still bothering her.

**To: Byul-ah**

Lol.

Have a good day, Byul-ah. Be careful at practice.

Going out tonight so I’ll be back late.

Feel free to text me at any point though. _12:15 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

k. _12:45 pm_

**Nobody** could get under her skin the way Moon Byulyi could. It was sick, literally **sick**, how Yongsun’s fist balled up immediately after reading that response: one fucking letter. No doubt the athlete added the damn period at the end on purpose. She was being petty.

Closing her eyes and taking **several** deep breaths, Yongsun put her phone away. She was **excellent** at being petty, but now wasn’t the time to prove that to Moonbyul. Instead, the predicament strengthened the resolve within to go through with meeting Seungyeon later.

The two hadn’t spent time together exactly one month ago. They texted and sometimes video called, but no in-person meet-ups had taken place. It made Yongsun extremely nervous about how things would go down. She was, essentially, about blindside Seungyeon, but it had to be done. Continuing anything physical with her wasn’t right. Yes, whatever she had with Byulyi required and deserved her full attention, but more than that, Seungyeon deserved better, deserved nothing less than someone that would dote on her and return her feelings tenfold.

Yongsun couldn’t offer that. Thus far, all she’d offered Seungyeon was heartache. The realization was something the graduate student still hadn’t come to terms with. The no-strings-attached arrangement was exhilarating! Until strings were attached. And Yongsun didn’t do enough to stop their physical relationship when that happened. It was a tough pill to swallow that she was that careless. That was something she’d have to grapple with for weeks, if not months to come.

But now was not the time. She focused during sessions with athletes on her caseload at The Center and took proper notes while shadowing Boyoung, the Senior Academic Advisor assigned to mentor her.

The lump in her stomach returned, though, as soon as she left The Center and set off to the bar deeper into the city that she and Seungyeon agreed to meet at. From the bus to the train to her walk into the establishment, every breath inhaled and exhaled was ragged. Mental clarity escaped her, every thought clouded with second-guessing, and no one that she could reach out to for support. Her friends would do it if asked, but Yongsun didn’t find it in good form to ask for a pep talk so that she could go through with the breakup.

She and Seungyeon were never dating—at least she didn’t think so—but this still felt like a breakup. The only other one she’d been through was with Jinyoung and it felt the exact same: labored breathing, an unsettled stomach, and clammy hands. It sucked.

Did she even have the right to complain about this? **She** was the one about to inflict pain upon someone else. Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t an option afforded to her.

Hoping that it’d help with the jitters coursing through her body, Yongsun ordered a drink. It was a desperate attempt to feel ready for the difficult conversation to come. A futile one, too. Time came and went, the unopened bottle sweating as minutes passed.

That’s how Seungyeon found her, staring aimlessly as she traced beads of condensation on the still-unopened bottle with her index finger.

“It’s a soju kind of night?” She joked as she walked up to the table. The lights were dimmed, otherwise, Yongsun was sure Seungyeon would’ve seen the grimace on her face sooner.

“Might be.”

“Well, you’d need to open the bottle for that to happen.”

“Mmm.”

“No hug?”

“Oh, sorry.” Yongsun stood and walked into the open arms expecting her. Breathing Seungyeon in was a comfort she needed. It was also a comfort she didn’t deserve. “You smell so good.” The words were out before her brain-to-mouth filter was applied.

“Thank you. I was worried I wouldn’t. Have been running around at work all day,” the taller woman confessed.

“Really? Tell me about it.”

It was a sincere request. The kissing and touching aside, Seungyeon was someone whose calm presence improved any situation. It was an experience listening to her sultry voice talk about . . . anything. Everything about Seungyeon was attractive. The way she walked, the way she talked, how sweet and tender she was, how **attractive** she was. Everything. She was even funny. The inner turmoil that had been churning within all day subsided significantly as Yongsun felt tears of laughter forming in the corners of her eyes from the workplace stories Seungyeon had unleashed on her.

“That didn’t happen,” Yongsun insisted through her unrelenting laughter.

“I promise you. He walked up to our team so confused as to why no one was at the meeting. Come to find out, he never sent the calendar invites to us. Only added it to his personal calendar. I was **so** done that day, Yongsun.” The way those lips curled up in satisfaction at Yongsun’s continued laughter was dangerous. Seungyeon knew what she was doing, right down to the unbuttoned Oxford shirt that revealed the prominent collarbones the graduate student remembered sucki–

**Not** the point right now.

“Can you button your shirt, please?” It was a sudden ask, but the memories flooding her mind were not appropriate. Rubbing her temples roughly, Yongsun took a deep breath before looking up to amused brown eyes dancing dangerously in the low lights.

“What’s wrong with my shirt being unbuttoned?” Seungyeon smirked.

“It’s distracting.”

“Oh?”

“You know that it is.”

“So come button it then.”

This is what she needed to avoid. The flirtation. When she wanted to, Seungyeon excelled at smooth talking and charming Yongsun.

Taking a deep breath and smirking in disbelief at the situation she found herself in, Yongsun finally collected herself. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Then I’ll come over there so you can button it for me.”

“Why are you being like this,” Yongsun laughed.

“Because I haven’t seen you in a month and I missed you.”

“Seungyeon, please. Can you just button the shirt. It’s really distracting me.”

“Last we spoke, you needed a distraction from all that was going on.”

Steeling herself for the conversation to come, Yongsun finally opened the bottle of soju she’d ordered an hour earlier and took a shot. Grimacing, the young woman kept her gaze on the bottle. The less she had to **look** at Seungyeon, the better this would go. Not that it would go well at all, honestly.

“Mmm. Not anymore. Not **that** kind of distraction, at least. I’d get in trouble,” she trailed off.

“In trouble?” There was still a hint of humor in Seungyeon’s voice.

It did nothing to quell the anxiety building within Yongsun’s stomach.

“Yup,” she popped the ‘p’.

“Who would you get in trouble with?”

“The person I’m seeing, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” She wasn’t outright calling Yongsun a liar, but the lightheartedness in Seungyeon’s voice told the graduate student that her admission wasn’t being taken seriously.

“Yeah,” she nodded her head.

Cowardly. She couldn’t even meet the eyes of the woman across the table from her. Instead, the bottle’s cap became the most fascinating thing to Yongsun. Her words met with silence, she busied herself with twirling the metallic object in her fingers.

“We spoke last week and you didn’t mention seeing anyone.”

“I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Why? It’s something to adjust to, yeah, but you could’ve just told me. It’s not **that** big of a deal. We agreed that we could see other people while maintaining what we have.”

And **that** was what Yongsun needed to clear up. Up until this point, Seungyeon had dated other people, all the while maintaining clear communication with Yongsun about what was going on in that part of her life. Yongsun had never had any such update. There was never anyone else that she was dealing with. It was natural, then, that Seungyeon assumed this was simply a matter of adapting what they had to work around whatever Yongsun had with this new person. In a way, it was.

The floor was hers, but the words refused to come out. And unlike usual, Seungyeon didn’t bail her out, didn’t smooth things over by saying something, anything, to mask the stifling silence at their table. No. Instead, she sat and stared, waiting for an explanation.

Still playing with the bottlecap, Yongsun let out an unsure sigh. “I just wanted you to know, I guess. So that you’d understand if I started acting differently.”

“Differently how?” Only traces of curiosity detected in her question.

“Differently as in we can’t do what we normally do. At all.” Remembering how furious Byulyi was at seeing Seungyeon’s name reminded her of the situation’s severity. “It’s complicated with this person, but there’s an unspoken understanding that we won’t see other people while we figure out what we ar–”

A wry chuckle cut her off.

“Wow.” The sight was devastating. Elbows propped up on the table, Seungyeon sat across from Yongsun with her head in her hands. Looking up suddenly, both pairs of eyes met. In a matter of minutes, Seungyeon’s seemed to have aged years. They were weary and tired. “Honestly, I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to react. The entire time we’ve been hooking up, you’ve said you weren’t looking for a relationship. And now, out of nowhere, you’re in a relationship?

Yongsun winced at the tone being flung at her but couldn’t do much else. Seungyeon was right. Clarifying that she and Byulyi weren’t **technically** in a relationship would’ve been a cruel game of semantics. She was here putting an end to things with Seungyeon to clear the way for . . . **something** with Moonbyul. That, in itself, was a sign that what she and Byulyi were working towards was significant enough.

“We spoke last week,” Seungyeon mumbled to herself. “How do things escalate that quickly in the matter of a week?”

“It’s complicated.”

“What does that **mean**?”

What **did** that mean?

Because Yongsun knew what it meant for her and Byulyi, but what stumped her was how to explain it to Seungyeon. **Should** she explain it to Seungyeon? That would be like rubbing salt in a wound, no?

“We’re trying to figure that out.”

“A relationship doesn’t just come out of nowhere.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“So you were with the person while we were messing around?”

“No, but I’ve known her for a while.”

“Her,” Seungyeon spoke to herself. “It’s a her.”

“Yeah.”

The taller woman shook her head in disbelief. “This doesn’t make any sense. And what makes it worse is that I don’t even need to ask. I know who it is.”

Eyes trained intently on Seungyeon now, Yongsun observed the woman’s every move, feeling a new stab in her heart when the other rolled her sleeves up, crossed her arms, and rested her head along the back of her chair, eyes up at the ceiling. For several minutes, neither spoke. The sounds from the small, yet bustling, crowd around them invaded their somber bubble.

There was nothing she could do to make this situation better. Everything she’d done thus far had only made things worse.

“So I was, what? A rebound from your previous relationship, or a placeholder until something started with her? And that’s a genuine question because right now, it feels like it could only be one of the two.”

“Neither. It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like? From the very beginning, you stressed over and over that you didn’t want a relationship. Not with me, not with anyone. **Now** you’re telling me not only are you considering a relationship, but there’s already someone you’re working on one with. How am I supposed to feel about that?”

“I’m sorry,” Yongsun held Seungyeon’s eyes. It didn’t make any of this better for the other woman, but her apology was sincere.

“That’s all you can say?”

“Anything else I say will sound like an excuse.” And that was the truth. There was plenty she could say about why she waited a week to drop this bombshell: she was scared to bring it up when they last spoke; she wanted to tell Seungyeon in person; she didn’t want to lose Seungyeon’s friendship; the list spanned pages.

But those all served to make Yongsun feel better about her cowardice. Right now was about Seungyeon, not about her.

Once again, silence engulfed them as Seungyeon sat and processed all that had been thrown at her. Yongsun sat and stared at the hands balled in her lap.

“I’m not putting all the blame on you, by the way,” Seungyeon sighed as she rubbed her head. “I developed feelings. That’s not your fault. There was no way for you to control that. Still, it hurts, y’know?” Yongsun figured that was a rhetorical question, so she stayed quiet. Talking her thoughts out was Seungyeon’s way of dealing with things. “To have been fighting a losing battle . . . that stings. To know that no matter what I did, you’d choose someone else in the end. Truthfully, I want to know, did I have a chance?”

“Seungyeon, please,” Yongsun pleaded. That wasn’t a question that either of them needed to have answered. Vision blurred from the liquid pooling along her lower lids, she aggressively wiped the moisture away before it could fall.

“If she weren’t in the picture, would I have had a chance? Would you have considered me?”

Reluctantly, Yongsun’s head slowly bobbed up and down. The least she could do was be honest, even if that honesty caused Seungyeon’s face to crumple most agonizingly.

“What does she have that I don’t?” The question was heart-wrenching. It was also beneath Seungyeon, Yongsun thought. The woman across from her was so much better than this.

And, once again, the graduate student was reminded that this was largely of her doing. It was her fault that an obvious catch sat here pleading and doubting herself. She **shouldn’t** owe Seungyeon any answers — a no-strings-attached arrangement shouldn’t call for any of that — but Yongsun felt that answers were the least of what Seungyeon was owed. Their relationship **shouldn’t** have space for these emotionally trying conversations, yet here they were, a sign in and of itself of how off-the-rails they got.

Seungyeon’s final question was rhetorical, as most of her questions were, but it stirred something in Yongsun. If she was going to drag Seungyeon through this, she should at least own her decision to work towards something deeper with Byulyi. Releasing a deep breath, she hoped that Seungyeon would appreciate the truth even if it stung.

“She’s . . . her. I can’t explain it. Things are just . . . **different** with her. On paper, you and I would be good. We’d be perfect. That’s why I felt safe having what we had, because you made me feel safe and comfortable. And I can’t thank you enough for that. From the bottom of my heart,” Yongsun’s voice cracked. “But what Byulyi and I have, it doesn’t even make sense,” she chuckled humorlessly as it dawned on her that that was the first time Byulyi’s name had been spoken out loud over the past 1.5 hours. “It really doesn’t. I can’t explain it. Whatever more than perfect is, that’s how well she and I fit together. And there is **so much** work that we have to do to make a relationship a reality between us—there is **a lot** to be ironed out—but it’s gotten to the point where it wouldn’t make sense to try with anyone else. If we can make it work, whatever Byul and I have will be special. There’s also the chance that it may not work at all. A couple months from now, I might be completely heartbroken and devastated, but she and I are both slowly trying to get to a place where we can give things a real shot. And to do that . . . I can’t continue what I’ve been doing with you.”

The heartbeat thrumming in her ears continued several minutes after the conclusion of her sentence. If Seungyeon had spoken, Yongsun wouldn’t have heard a thing. Thankfully, if she could even say that, Seungyeon hadn’t uttered a word for several more minutes either. Both young women sat in the fog of silence that settled over them, their conversation having finally unearthed what had gone unspoken for far too long.

A deep huff from across the table slashed through the quiet.

“So this means we’re done, correct?” The voice asking was haggard. Saturated with exhaustion.

“The physical part, yes,” Yongsun reluctantly admitted. “I was hoping we could stay friends. Is that too much to ask?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. A large part of me wants to automatically say ‘yes’ to remaining friends, but if I’m honest with myself, I think time and space apart to think this through would be best.”

“This sounds like a breakup,” Yongsun thought out loud. Nothing about it was funny, but a few chuckles still slipped out.

“It feels like one, too,” Seungyeon agreed.

“I’m **so** sorry. I really am.”

“I know.” It was still tired, but Seungyeon’s voice held more tenderness than Yongsun had heard all evening.

Twenty more minutes ticked by, solely because neither woman wanted an end to what would be their final moments together for the foreseeable future. When it grew impossible to prolong the inevitable any longer, Seungyeon took charge.

“How are you getting home?” She asked while cleaning up their table.

“The train.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I definitely do. It’s late. You walking around on your own at this time of night is not okay.” All Yongsun could do was nod. This was a level of graciousness she didn’t necessarily believe she deserved but she was grateful her path had, once again, crossed once more with Seungyeon’s.

The hope, which she knew was born from selfishness, was that this wasn’t the last time it did.

*

“Yongsun!”

“In the bathroom, Rongie!”

Within seconds, Chorong barged into the room.

“Have seen m–, oh wow! You look cute!”

“What do you mean by ‘oh wow’. You sound surprised or something,” the blonde scoffed as she finished applying her makeup.

“Calm down. I didn’t know you were going anywhere today, that’s all. Thought you’d still be too sad to do anything after the Seungyeon fallout.”

“Still not over it, but I need to put that aside for the moment. **Finally** got Byulyi to stop being a sourpuss by agreeing to take her to a virtual reality arcade,” she rolled her eyes.

It was something Moonbyul had been mentioning for months now, but Yongsun only finally relented the night before. The younger woman showed up after her basketball game and, even though she tried her best to still act frustrated, it was obvious she had forgiven Yongsun.

_“You’re finally done being upset?”_

_“Who said I was upset?”_

_“**I** said you were upset. You only act the way you did when you’re angry about something,” Yongsun began poking Moonbyul’s face._

_The senior showed no signs of being affected by the finger digging into her cheek. “Did something happen for me to be upset?”_

_“Oh my gosh! I hate when you do that shit,” Yongsun whined and turned over in the bed, much to the basketball player’s delight, it seemed, because joyous laughter tinkled through the low-lit bedroom._

_“Okay, fine. I was mad. Are you happy now?”_

_“No, I’m not. Why would it make me happy that you were angry? That’s the opposite of what I want for you.”_

_“And her texting you is the opposite of what I want for you.”_

_“Well . . . wish granted.” The feelings from her meeting with Seungyeon from the night before were still raw. Yongsun’s response came out more bitter than she intended._

_“How so?”_

_“She only texted me to make sure we were still meeting on Thursday. We met yesterday and I ended things with her.” Why she ended things didn’t need to be vocalized. Moonbyul would know._

_Lying on her side, Yongsun drank in the subsequent silence. Having a long heart-to-heart about Seungyeon was **not** what she needed right now. Moonbyul knew that, too. _

_Moments later, the younger woman snuggled up to Yongsun’s back and wrapped her right arm around the shorter woman’s waist. Burrowing her face into Yongsun’s neck, Byulyi let a kiss linger there._ _That was the closest she'd get tonight to acknowledging how difficult she knew the situation was for Yongsun. _

_In true Moonbyul fashion, though, she couldn’t leave well enough alone. “You know what would make you feel better? if you did something to make up for the day we didn't talk.” It brought a smile to Yongsun’s face when the sharp elbow she jabbed into the athlete’s stomach elicited a loud groan._

_“You’re **so** annoying.”_

_“How? I dealt with great hardship. Had to go a whole day without talking to you.”_

_“You **chose **to go one day without talking to me.”_

_“That’s not the point. Plus, today, we had our game.”_

_“Your team won. That’s a good thing.”_

_“But I didn’t get to play. Imagine how hard it was for me to have to watch my team from the bench **and** not talk to my gir–, to you. I’ve been suffering.”_

_The slip up didn’t go unnoticed, but Yongsun chose to let it go unaddressed._

_“Ugh, what do you want?”_

_“Take me to the VR arcade I’ve been mentioning.”_

_“You’re so manipulative!”_

_“No, I’m great at picking and choosing my moments.”_

_“Annoying.”_

_“Tomorrow?”_

_“Whatever. Turn off the lights, I want to sleep.”_

_Byulyi did as she was told._

_There was **one** thing, though, that Yongsun couldn’t leave ignored._

_“Why did you sent me a text message with one letter? And the fucking period at the end. I was ready to strangle you.” Byul’s boisterous laugh had Yongsun concerned that Chorong would storm in and beat them both._

_“I knew it would piss you off. That’s why I did it. I wanted to annoy you.”_

_“You’re seriously so childish.”_

_“We all have our flaws.”_

“A date.”

“We’re going to an arcade,” Yongsun clarified.

“Yes, a date. Is that where the two of you are now? You’re officially dating?”

“We’re officially friends-with-benefits.”

“You’re shitting me,” Chorong doubled over with laughter. “Ignoring the obvious stupidity of that, there are no dates in a friends-with-benefits relationship. There is fucking, **maybe** some pillow talk. But definitely no dates. Unless . . . the fucking is so good that it makes you want to go on a date?” Chorong was intrigued. “I mean, it’s to be expected. You know all the stories I heard about her, and for all the shit some people would say, no one ever had a bad thing to say about her performance in the bedroom. It makes sense, I guess,” Yongsun’s roommate mused. She was in her own world now, talking to herself. So much so that she almost missed Yongsun’s response.

“We’re not fuc–, doing that. We’re not having sex.” That only further fanned her roommate’s amusement.

“Then what exactly are the benefits in this ‘friends-with-benefits’ relationship? The phrase in itself is just a nicer way of saying ‘fuck buddies’. If you’re not fucking, you’re not FWBs.”

Thinking about it now, the term was a bit crass, not at all an accurate summation of what she and Byulyi had. They were more than that. It angered her slightly, actually, to hear someone else using the term to refer to her and Moonbyul’s relationship. The two of them understood what they meant when they agreed on the label “FWBs”. It was just . . .** something** to label this in-between period. They didn’t literally mean friends with benefits. And she tried explaining that to Chorong, who didn’t get it.

“Then call yourselves something else. Just say ‘it’s complicated’ when people inevitably ask if the two of you are dating. Because, well, you’re dating,” her roommate motioned with her hand to Yongsun’s current getup. “Literally.”

_It’s complicated_.

Yongsun recalled using that very phrase several times on Thursday with Seungyeon.

Every damn thing these days with her and Byulyi was becoming increasingly more of that: complicated. It was simultaneously the easiest and most challenging relationship she’d ever had, but with each day that passed, Yongsun realized that maybe that’s what made it worth all the heartache.

And there was plenty of heartache to come. She was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was challenging to write. You all know why 😔 A moment of silence.
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> A joke. That’s not actually why it was difficult to write. Anyway, one comment got me thinking and I wanted to pose a question to you all: do y’all think Yongsun had real feelings for Seungyeon? I have my thoughts but am so curious about what you all think.
> 
> It's Wednesday for some of you; I'll try to get updates out on Tuesday for everyone (because EYE want to, not because I feel any pressure from any of you). There was something else I was supposed to say here but I forgot.
> 
> I hope you’re all safe and practicing patience with yourselves.
> 
> ETA: I write this story because it's a story I've had on my mind for a long time before ever writing a word of it. It is SO much fun knowing that there are others that enjoy it to. Of course, there are those that are not fans of this story—that is FINE. If you don't like the story, you don't have to read it. There's a reason I didn't make this "subscribers only", because having people subscribe was never the point. I just wanted to write a story. That's it.
> 
> To be clear, I have no issue with people that comment their frustration about the pace or people that comment about wanting moonsun to happen already or people that share they may not like how certain things happen. Plenty of people have left comments disagreeing with a lot that happens in this story. I love reading those comments! When I say "if you don't like the story, you don't have to read it" I mean people that don't comment, don't interact with this at all, and then post petty comments elsewhere. Why would you read through such a long ass story just to be petty about it? I am not forcing you to read this story, no one is forcing you to read this story. You can literally stop at any point. And to see fandom artists and other fanfic writers being petty along with them . . . none of this is that serious lol. Write your stories and I'll write mine. That's all there is to it. Maybe I'm being dramatic and oversensitive. But I've seen subs before and it really gets tired after a while. I'm also actively procrastinating doing real-life work right now so . . . yeah. The devil finds work for idle hands. My hands are way too idle right now.


	45. [M-ish?] Their First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs. These songs got me THROUGH writing this chapter because this one was tough for several reasons, some story-related, others not. You don't have to listen to the songs.
> 
> \- Pretty Please x Dua Lipa  
\- Honey x Wheein [Cover]  
\- Dangerous City x dvsn, Ty Dolla $ign, Buju Banton  
\- In Your Eyes x The Weeknd  
\- La Canción x J. Balvin, Bad Bunny  
\- A Muse x dvsn

Everything was still. An eerie silence hung in the air, elevating Byulyi’s unease.

Heeyeon had long since left the apartment for her Monday morning class, the first of several business school obligations that day. It sucked for Heeyeon and normally, Byulyi would sympathize with her roommate over her Monday blues. Today, however, that congested schedule was exactly what Byulyi needed, exactly what she counted on.

6.5 weeks since she confessed to Yongsun and they shared their first kiss.

5.5 weeks since Yongsun confessed to her.

4 weeks since the small get-together Yongsun planned for her where they had their second kiss.

3 weeks since Byulyi suggested this friends-with-benefits thing.

1.5 weeks since Yongsun ended whatever it was she had going on with Seungyeon. Thank goodness.

8 MONTHS since Byulyi last had sex.

6 MONTHS until Byulyi left for Turkey.

She was losing her mind.

Imagine a balloon, its concentrated latex agonizingly stretched to its limits by pumps of air that never ended and never allowed time for release.

Moonbyul was the balloon.

With every night spent cuddling, each blinding smile Yongsun sent her way, and the innocent touches that, to Byulyi, were anything but, the young woman’s resolve crumbled as she teetered on the ledge of sanity, dangerously close to slipping off at any moment.

She and Yongsun hadn’t discussed a timeline of any kind, but it would be a lie if Byul said she wasn’t hoping for things to progress physically between them. Sex was probably off the table **for now**—hopefully not **too** far off—but the way things lined up, she’d thought some **touching** touching would have been sprinkled in with the kissing she and Yongsun did. Neither was seeing anyone else, they were already comfortable and close with each other in every other way, and, having a pretty good guess of what Yongsun used to do with Seungyeon, there was a void for the older woman that Byulyi was more than willing to fill. It would be as easy as she and Yongsun picking up where Yongsun and her ex-“friend” left off.

But she and Yongsun weren’t there yet, which was **fine** with her. Truly. It was **fine**.

Still, a conversation about it wouldn’t hurt any, right? Byulyi just didn’t know how to broach the topic—she’d never had to do that before. After making their interest in her clear, all of Moonbyul’s previous partners made the first move.

Yongsun, however, was not making the first move. And, wanting to be respectful and give her space and not pressure her into anything, Byul took to sneaking away when she could to take care of her urges on her own.

Both plagued by social commitments on Friday and Saturday, the pair spent a calm day together on Sunday . . . doing homework and preparing for the week ahead. The athlete imagined that the first time seeing Yongsun in a couple of days would be . . . more. And she voiced exactly that, albeit in a petulant whine.

_“Yong,” Byulyi forcefully shut her laptop and slunk further into the couch’s pleather._

_“What,” Yongsun asked unaffectedly, fingers creating music as they moved furiously across her computer’s keyboard._

_“I’m bored.”_

_“Then finish your work.”_

_“I only have a reading left, it can wait until later.”_

_“‘Later’ will never come for you. Just do it now,” the graduate student replied in a monotone voice, attention solely on her screen._

_“We’ve been doing work since this morning. On a **Sunday**. Can’t we do something fun now?”_

_“Being productive is a ton of fun.”_

_“Yong,” the younger pouted, easing up in her seat just enough to perch her head on the other woman’s left shoulder. “We’ve worked hard enough today. Please?” Thinking a hint at the type of “fun” she meant wouldn’t hurt any, Byulyi craned her head close enough to leave a soft kiss on Yongsun’s neck. “Please?”_

_Silence stretched on between them, but Yongsun’s fingers paused for its entirety, kindling hope within Byulyi._

_She watched as the other woman saved the progress on what she’d been working on before pulling her laptop to a close with a deep sigh. Yongsun turned to face her, staring into Byulyi’s eyes for a few beats before conceding._

_“Fine.”_

_“Yay!” The senior clapped animatedly. “Only if you’re actually finished with your work though,” she added on belatedly._

_“Oh please,” Yongsun rolled her eyes while standing up to gather her computer and paperwork._

_“I mean it! I want us to have some fun, but not at the expense of your work. Scout’s honor,” she lifted three fingers on her right hand in the universal gesture._

_“I half believe you. It’s fine though, I finished everything I needed to.”_

_“You sure?”_

_“Yeah. Plus, you were right. It’s 6 o’clock on a Sunday, we deserved a break.”_

_“See! I was right!”_

_“The first and last time that’ll ever happen.” Before Byulyi could retort, Yongsun spoke again, her voice more demure than only seconds ago. “There’s actually something I’d been thinking about doing for a while now.” She nervously clutched the laptop and papers in her arms closer to her chest._

_“Oh?” The athlete asked, interest properly piqued. ‘Something I’d been thinking about doing for a while now.’ There was something Moonbyul, herself, had been thinking about doing for a while now, too._

_“Hold on, let me go put this down, and then we could talk about it. I’d need you for it to work.”_

_With that, Yongsun turned on her heels and scurried down the hallway before emerging a few minutes later with her hands hidden behind her back._

_“What are you hiding?”_

_“Listen to my idea first,” she demanded, slowly stalking closer. “So, I was thinking we could do themed Sundays.”_

_“Themed?” To that question Yongsun enthusiastically nodded her head._

_A themed Sunday. Sexy Sundays? Sensual Sundays? Sex Sundays? They’d all be **exceptional** and **very** enjoyable._

_Yeah, Byulyi was officially losing it. Clearing her mind of impure thoughts, she turned to face Yongsun who had somehow ended up next to her on the couch._

_“Themed. Skincare Sundays!”_

_“Skincare Sundays,” Byulyi repeated, audibly less thrilled._

_“You don’t like it?”_

_The disappointment coloring her tone combined with the deep-set pout living on Yongsun’s lips made it increasingly more difficult to voice any displeasure at the newly proposed idea. Looking down at the array of sheet masks fanned between them on the couch, the thought of shooting this down became impossible._

_“It’s not that, I just wasn’t expecting Skincare Sundays. That’s all,” she tripped over herself to assure Yongsun, feeling proud of herself when the dimples below the graduate student’s alluring lips appeared._

_“You’ll do it with me?”_

_“What exactly would I need to do?”_

_“Whatever I tell you.”_

_If this were Sexy, Sensual, or Sex Sundays, listening to whatever Yongsun told her to do would have been infinitely more fun. Still, looking into the expectant eyes across from her, the young woman couldn’t help but melt internally at the excitement billowing from Yongsun._

_“Okay. Where do we start?”_

To her surprise, the evening turned out to be a lot of fun. Like, **a lot** of fun. Byulyi had a skincare regimen beforehand—she washed her face in the morning, after training, and at night, making sure to tone and moisturize—but Yongsun’s was on another level. The older woman lectured her on skin types and pH levels and encouraged the athlete to add several additional steps and products to her routine, certain that these “small tweaks” would “revolutionize” Byulyi’s skin.

_“Look at my skin, no wrinkles. It’s all thanks to the essence I use and facials I do.”_

_“I’m certain it has more to do with genetics and nutrition. Also, the fact that you’re 24 might play a role. You’re young,” Byulyi deadpanned._

_“I’m certain it’s my skincare routine.”_

_“Okay,” she relented. _

That was the right move. Not only did they not end up in a stupid fight, Yongsun treated her to a facial, which was something new for Byulyi—no one had ever pampered her like that. There was a level of detail and care in the way her best friend tended to her face, reminding her that it was always the small things with Yongsun. Never one to broadcast anything to an audience, the older woman’s feelings, Byulyi learned throughout their 1.5-year friendship, always came tucked away behind thoughtful actions: a facial, a reprimand over not finishing her work, checking that Byul ate enough before and after training, messaging links to posts about interests Byulyi had mentioned in passing—small things that made it impossible to doubt where Yongsun stood when it came to her.

Although they weren’t yet in a relationship with the labels Byulyi preferred, she took solace in the fact that, objectively, Yongsun supported her in reaching her goals and becoming the woman she wanted to become. With all that was going on in Yongsun’s life, she **made** time for Byulyi.

Probably an understatement, but knowing that felt **good**. It gave her strength to hold out longer in this limbo that she and Yongsun found themselves in. Yongsun did a lot for her, she could do this for Yongsun.

The rest of their evening was wholesome. The pair donned animal sheet masks while listening and dancing to songs of Yongsun’s choosing. Moonbyul insisted they take several selfies, so they did, and Yongsun insisted they order food, which they also did.

The jovial atmosphere was successful in cloaking Byul’s inner yearning for **more**, but only temporarily. Once the two decided on calling it a night and climbed into Yongsun’s bed, the misery flared up once again. If being pulled closer until her arms were tightly wrapped around Yongsun all night didn’t do her in, the graduate student rubbing her ass against Byulyi’s midsection—likely unintentional as Yongsun fell asleep within minutes that night—did the trick.

By morning, the beleaguered young woman was frothing at the mouth to escape. Aside from Moonbyul’s basketball practice in the evening, Mondays were clear for the pair—no classes, no work. Still, she needed to get away. And she did, slinking away moments after waking up, using her unfinished reading from the day before as an excuse.

That’s how she ended up huddled beneath her covers on a Monday morning with the bedroom door locked even though, as with **every** Monday, Heeyeon was gone. Byulyi was the only one home, but better safe than sorry.

Comforted by the lingering silence that filled the apartment, she fell onto her back and reinserted her earbuds. Accustomed to this routine, the young woman made quick work of the phone’s passcode. The notifications of messages from the basketball team group chat and social media interactions, she hastily swiped past those, making sure her VPN was on before heading to one of her go-to sites in moments like this. It took time, but she’d curated a small list of overseas websites that had enough variety and quality to be useful when she got **this** needy.

Shrouded in darkness, Byulyi’s eyes quickly adjusted to the screen’s harsh, white glow, a stark contrast to the golden sunlight tumbling through her window.

“lesbian”

The search terms would normally be more specific, and she’d usually be pickier about the videos she chose, something longer with decent production quality and a plot, . . . but between her legs was humming with the need for release so she clicked the first video that popped up.

It didn’t take long. Scrubbing ahead to where the leads began their foreplay, Byulyi held the device in her left hand while swiftly sliding her other into her underwear. Lanky fingers descended through wisps of pubic hair before finding the bundle of nerves she sought. Starting with a slow, steady rhythm, the young woman picked up the pace with which she rubbed her clit as one of the women in the video climbed atop the other, slipping a hand between the legs of the women below her. Shutting her eyes, Byulyi’s imagination took care of the rest. The picture painted in her head had Yongsun as the woman laid out on the mattress, Moonbyul on top of her. The erotic sounds of lips and tongues sloppily meeting spurred her on, the thought of one day being able to do this with and to Yongsun sent her body into spasms.

“Fuck,” the brunette panted after climaxing. Ripping the headphones from her ears, she let her cell phone to fall onto her stomach, no longer concerned with what Woman A and Woman B were getting into. Body temporarily immobilized, Byulyi laid there, inhaling and exhaling the same recycled, thick air she’d been breathing for the past 7 minutes.

Only 7 minutes had elapsed since first submerging herself beneath the covers, even less since starting the video. While slightly embarrassing at how tightly wound with lust she was, it was understandable, no? Answering her silent inquiry, Moonbyul weakly nodded to herself seconds later—it **was** understandable. There was no shame in how quickly she came. It was fine.

There was no shame. It was fine.

Over and over, the words were recited mentally until a sudden lethargy settled into her bones. Clamoring for her phone, Byulyi set an alarm for 3:00 pm in case she didn’t wake up of her own volition.

She’d taken care of what she needed to for now. A peaceful sleep was much deserved.

*

From Yongsun to basketball—two pressure cookers the senior’s life oscillated between.

Unlike in the quasi-romantic relationship she was currently in, though, the stresses of basketball were familiar to Byulyi, a comfort, a second home. She **knew** basketball. Things were by no means predictable, her injury an example of the unexpected, but attaining success was a matter of consistently making the right decisions and putting in the necessary amount of work. That simple.

**She** held the power here.

Of course, an injury was an injury. It came with highs and lows that not even the formidable Moon Byulyi was impervious to. Progress one day was shattered the next when met with a new physical challenge that drained her mentally. The time away from playing took its toll. Internal strife materialized as uncharacteristic whines and complaints that, thankfully, were always swept under the rug by the training and coaching staff because of how committed to the game Byulyi had shown herself to be. Never missing early-morning rehab with Yujin and Kwon Jihun, those sessions were always supplemented with additional time in the gym focusing on lifting to build other muscles—the opportunity to do so in-season was typically unheard of so she made the most of it. Once mobility improved over winter break, she spent 1.5 hours each day sharpening shooting fundamentals via stationary drills, cutting it to 1 hour a day once classes resumed. When not in class during the day, Byulyi was in the gym working her way back to peak fitness levels, grabbing quick meals with friends, or dropping in on Yongsun at The Center between training sessions.

The relentlessness with which she pursued a return to the game was noticed and respected by all among the team. In their eyes, the youngster earned the right to grumble every now and then. Which is why Yujin held her tongue right now.

“Isn’t this too easy? We did more than this yesterday and I was fine.”

“That’s why we’re scaling back today.”

“I’m not weak, I can take more, unnie.”

“You have an odd fascination with weakness. No one thinks you’re weak, Byulyi. The coaches think we should err on the side of caution with you. For them, just because your body responded well yesterday doesn’t mean we should throw caution to the wind just yet.” The tight-lipped response indicated that the trainer was digging deep into her reserves of patience to endure being second-guessed this way. Nonetheless, Byulyi pushed her luck, endangering the graciousness Yujin was trying so clearly to extend to her.

“We did two days of going hard. I’m fine.”

“Five minutes until the switchover,” the older woman ignored Moonbyul’s words, her sharp eyes trained on the scoreboard installed on the far wall. “Get into the wall sit. One minute both legs, thirty seconds left only, thirty on your right. Go through it twice.”

“Yujin-unni–”

“Time starts in 3, 2, 1.”

Sighing audibly, the brunette trudged to the nearest wall and sunk into starting position, legs bent at exactly 90 degrees.

All things considered, the road back from injury had gone according to plan. Her mental slumps aside, there were no major physical setbacks. The first month post-injury consisted solely of ankle strengthening training, with the next month gradually ramping up to more dynamic and holistic training, an emphasis on improving Byul’s explosiveness and agility. This was Week 9 and, instead of participating in full contact with the rest of the team, Byulyi was made to spend the first hour with Yujin doing warmups and conditioning before allowed to join the team for the second half of practice—walkthroughs and scrimmages. Of course, it all came with everyone holding their breaths whenever Byulyi so happened to get bumped or fall. It was getting old. They were handling her like fine china.

“Time!” Yujin interrupted Byulyi’s thoughts. “Stop sulking. They’re doing this in your best interest.”

“I want to play,” the athlete stood from the wall with ease, swiping her water bottle from the floor and squirting the customized drink into her mouth.

“You will.”

“When?”

“When I’m confident that you’ll be able to play at the level you were at pre-injury.”

“I played at 100% on Monday and Tuesday in practice.” The coaches put her with the third-string and walk-on players on Monday and Byulyi led them to sweeping the starters. They moved her up to the second-team on Tuesday. She, once again, led them to sweeping everyone else. That, Byulyi thought, demonstrated her durability and fitness. Apparently not.

She and Yujin walked side-by-side through the basketball arena in tense silence, their destination being the full-team training going on. It was time for the hand-off Moonbyul grew accustomed to over the past week.

Ignoring the shrill whistle putting an end to the drills happening, Moonbyul stormed over to the scorer’s table, ignoring the inquisitive stares from teammates flocking to the adjacent water cooler.

“What’s wrong with you?” Coach Do strutted over with a level of happiness not appropriate for the pity party Byul was internally throwing.

“Nothing.”

“I doubt that,” the older woman called Byulyi’s bluff, but sped past that to deliver important information. “You’re with the second team again today. I’m coaching, so I’ll need you to play like you did yesterday.” Intent on coaxing at least a small smile from the younger woman, she gently nudged Byul’s shoulder.

“Okay.”

“This sourpuss thing doesn’t suit you.”

“Okay,” Moonbyul continued staring off into the distance.

“We’re all on your side,” Coach Do leaned in and lowered her voice. “Coach doesn’t want to rush your return so she’s playing it cautiously. Try to be understanding, Byulyi.”

“Okay.”

Sighing, the older woman pushed off from the table’s edge. “You’ll understand sooner rather than later. And stop giving Yujin shit. She told me you were annoying her earlier on. She’s probably fighting the hardest for you right now.”

Not much to be said to that. Byulyi kept her mouth shut.

*

“Have a seat.”

Following instructions, her feet shuffled of their own accord, depositing Byulyi into one of the two empty seats in front of the seasoned coach’s desk.

“How do you feel?” It was slightly off-putting the way the pair of eyes across from her bore into her own. Given the sternness with which Coach Ok offhandedly insisted Byulyi follow her to her office after practice, such a benign question was perplexing.

Only 10 minutes prior, practice ended with the second team claiming the top spot for the second day in a row. Her performance today having satisfactorily quelled the frustration boiling within, Byulyi ended training noticeably more affable than before. Scoring wasn’t the day’s focus—Coach Do made clear to her charge that she wanted movement, ball movement, and movement off-the-ball, both of which Moonbyul delivered without forcing things. The pleas made to Yujin weren’t disingenuous. Her body felt **good**. The aches in the right ankle weren’t debilitating as they once were. Even after a considerably more physical and intense practice, as today’s was, there was no pain or discomfort.

Intercepting Byulyi before the senior exited the gym, Coach Ok uttered an eerily calm “let’s talk”, heading to her office without checking if Byulyi was in tow. It was the reason the brunette sat stumped as to how best to respond to her coach’s question.

_How do you feel?_

“Uh . . . fine,” she responded dumbly.

“Just fine?”

“Better than fine? I feel really good.”

“That was some performance today.”

“Thanks.” Every word coming from Coach Ok was positive, yet Moonbyul’s heart banged against her chest in anticipation of a proverbial rug being pulled from underneath her.

The analog clock hanging behind the veteran coach marked the seconds that passed, each tick audibly documented in the unnatural silence.

“How does the ankle feel? Honestly.” A hint of uncertainty could be detected, the first in Byulyi’s time with Coach Ok.

“It feels great. At some point, I stopped thinking about it. I can do things without hesitating or worrying about how the ankle will hold up. I’m back to **doing** instead of wanting to do and wasting time thinking about if I could or should do what I intended to.”

The pointed stare directed at her made the senior squirm in her seat, but she didn’t look away. While not sure, this felt like a challenge that she **needed** to meet “Fine,” Coach Do sighed and averted her gaze. “The away games this Friday and Saturday, you’ll be listed as an active reserve. Pack appropriately. **If** you get in either game, you’ll be on a minutes restriction—no more than 12 minutes a game.”

Byulyi nearly jumped out of the chair with joy. The amount of relief and happiness coursing through her veins was overwhelming. Instead, a muted “thank you, Coach,” slipped past her lips.

“Thank Yujin. She’s been telling me for a while now that you could handle more.”

Standing, the perspiration from training kept Byulyi’s shorts clinging to her toned quadriceps. Bowing profusely, she thanked her coach several more times before damn near running out of the office.

**To: Yong**

You’ve been temporarily demoted to my 2nd favorite person. _8:18 pm_

**From: Yong**

Understandable. _8:18 pm_

**To: Yong**

Don’t you want to know who’s #1? _8:19 pm_

**From: Yong**

Knowing isn’t going to change that I’m #2 now. _8:20 pm_

**To: Yong**

Ask me. _8:20 pm_

**From: Yong**

I kinda don’t care. _8:21 pm_

**To: Yong**

Ask me. _8:21 pm_

**From: Yong**

. . . _8:22 pm_

**To: Yong**

It’s Yujin. _8:23 pm_

She got Coach to take me off the injured reserves. _8:23 pm_

**From: Yong**

Aww. Yay! You’ve been working hard for that

Finally, no more complaining 🙏 _8:24 pm_

**To: Yong**

??? _8:24 pm_

Do you have food? _8:30 pm_

Read at 8:31 pm

Don’t leave me on read! _8:32 pm_

**From: Yong**

Go ask your new #1. _8:33 pm_

**To: Yong**

Omg 😩 It was a joke! _8:33 pm_

Yong. _8:35 pm_

Yong! _8:37 pm_

I’m hungry 🥺 _8:40 pm_

Yongsun. _8:45 pm_

Read at 8:46 pm

Now in the locker room, she put her phone away and tucked her towel tightly underneath her armpits. Heading into the shower stalls, Byulyi heaved a heavy sigh. ‘Twas time, she supposed, to leave the manageable, logical stresses of basketball, and plunge headfirst back into the oft-confusing—but still worthwhile—“thing” that she had going on with her best friend.

From Yongsun to basketball. From basketball to Yongsun. The two pressure cookers that Moon Byulyi’s life oscillated between.

*

Two road games. Two victories.

True to her word, and to Byul’s irritation, Coach Ok held on steadfastly to the minutes restriction. In Friday’s game, Byulyi’s minutes were distributed evenly among all four quarters. Encouraged by the senior’s performance in the high-paced game, the elder woman adjusted the minute breakdown for Saturday’s away game, saving Byulyi for the game’s second half.

The adrenaline from being in front of a large crowd was a sensation whose void Byulyi hadn’t fully understood the depth of until stepping foot on the hardwood court again, proudly donning SNU’s colors. Dedicating minutes before each of the two games to simply sitting and appreciating having made it back from injury, Moonbyul absorbed the chaotic energy radiating from the crowds. Deeply inhaling the scents, sounds, and sights that had come to govern her life’s trajectory thus far, the young woman leaned into the unadulterated bliss shooting through her veins.

She missed basketball. She loved basketball. She never again wanted to be separated from it for this long.

Acknowledging those thoughts and feelings, she was seized by guilt. There was someone else, another relationship that had become just as important to her as the one she maintained with basketball, someone that she’d also promised her all to, mentally vowed to do whatever was necessary to ensure their relationship’s success. Mathematically, it was impossible to give her all to both. And even as she relentlessly pursued a relationship with Yongsun, Byulyi remained clueless about how exactly both relationships could coincide positively.

Then she’d shut that thinking off because it wasn’t the time for that. Hours away from Seoul in their opponents’ decently filled gymnasiums, she honored the time with basketball that she once again was privileged to have.

The return wasn’t seamless—her lungs could last more than 12 minutes, not too much more, though—but every aspect of returning to the game was promising, especially the chemistry with teammates. Inactive for an extended period, Byulyi didn’t get much time in with the starting lineup over the past week and a half. The seamless transition and innate understanding displayed today and yesterday, then, she credited to the increased amount of time she was purposely spending with teammates off the court.

Like tonight. The Saturday before Valentine’s Day.

Weeks ago, an invitation to celebrate one of her teammates’ birthdays was extended and Byulyi immediately agreed to attend. At the time, her mind didn’t register the date. Only earlier this week did the significance of this weekend dawn on her, but it was too late to back out. Yongsun herself hadn’t mentioned **anything** about the holiday-to-some beyond the fact that she’d be heading to her parents’ home on the Sunday for a family dinner. It was her parents’ 30th anniversary.

Another moment of confusion for Moonbyul, who didn’t know if the silence about Valentine’s Day meant that Yongsun truly didn’t care about the holiday, or if the graduate student was expecting her to bring it up and do something special. She was also too nervous to ask—if they had the conversation, she’d have to verbalize that her pre-V Day plans included hopping off of the team bus at 11:00 pm after a multi-hour journey from Daegu, getting changed, and heading to a house party with her teammates.

It became a habit—going out with the team after games. But their games were usually Friday evenings. With a few consecutive weeks of Friday-Saturday road games in the farthest cities from Seoul, though, tonight’s outing was pushed to Saturday.

This stretch of the season was the toughest. This weekend being the first, the team would hit Busan the following weekend, Yongsun’s birthday weekend. That’s what caused most of Byulyi’s unease about tonight. Whether Yongsun cared about Valentine’s day or not, if she could celebrate her 25th birthday next weekend, tonight’s social obligation could be overlooked. It was the fact that she wasn’t home tonight **and** would be gone next weekend.

It didn’t look good. Too precariously fragile, her and Yongsun’s current muddled relationship status held no space for these types of fuck ups. Even if Yongsun truly didn’t care about Valentine’s Day, it didn’t sit well with Byulyi.

It also didn’t sit well with the athlete how many women were flirting with and rubbing up on her tonight. The fact that their actions were getting her worked up made this all the more shameful.

Feeling the need to reassert herself as a leader, Byulyi zealously jumped back into social activities with the team. It was the main reason: the senior didn’t want the team to feel as if she abandoned them after her injury. A secondary reason: she missed and enjoyed time with them. They were rowdy. The embodiment of work hard, play harder. Among all SNU sports teams, the Women’s Basketball Team ranked among the most notorious for shenanigans. A good time followed wherever they went, even when they weren’t drinking, which, with currently being in-season, they obviously weren’t tonight. As such, social-climbing hopefuls stayed near in the hopes of drafting social capital.

Since her arrival on campus, Byulyi was one of the most popular targets for the social-climbers, a point of entry for SNU have-nots into the world of the SNU haves. She was charming, kind, a natural flirt, and perpetually single and willing to mingle . . . selectively. For most hopefuls though, the odds of getting with her were usually low: Byulyi never hooked up with many women, and no one could figure out what her “type” was, making it harder for the girls chasing after her to improve their chances by changing their appearance to her liking. Combined with the ever-growing air of mystery and intrigue around the athlete and her romantic endeavors—partly of her own doing as she was relatively tight-lipped about the subject—, those deterrents made the pursuit that much more enjoyable.

The risk was low. With so many others trying their luck with Byulyi, all suitors blended into the crowd with no fear of being embarrassed the next day should they face rejection. It was common enough for women to try their hand with Byulyi that no one else batted an eyelash at those that inevitably did.

The reward was high though. If successful, they got to **be** with Moon Byulyi which, based on hearsay, was a **very** enjoyable experience—rumors spread on college campuses like liquid catching onto the tip of a paper towel. The never-ending game of telephone built the athlete’s image to levels even she was now unable to control. But the benefits of any romantic connection to Byul, rumored or actual, extended beyond the confines of a bedroom. The slightest hint of a sexual connection to her hurtled women to relevance, manifesting in, one, an uptick in followers on social media looking to pore over all photos and tweets in the hopes of finding a concrete connection linking Byul and the women in question and, two, an uptick in suitors that **suddenly** found them attractive and worthy of pursuit. Taking their chances was a shot in the dark, but a shot, nonetheless. They had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Until last year when Byulyi made it clear to anyone that asked—and those who didn’t—that she was with Haena.

It created a void felt by all who hoped and wished for a return to the good ole days of Byulyi the Heartbreaker, as most had come to (un)jokingly call her. Their prayers were answered, many silently rejoicing, when Haena graduated and the basketball star was once again on the market.

Of course, there was Yongsun to contend with. Even those that didn’t know the blonde by name knew she was never too far away. However, Byulyi had been adamant from the beginning that she and the older woman were simply best friends, and those that did their research pieced together that Yongsun dated and entertained other people last year, bolstering assumptions and wishful thinking that these two remained the same this year—just friends.

Byulyi’s subsequent injury, though, kept her out of more than just practice, it kept her out of social events, too. Now that she was back making the rounds with her teammates, the sexual advances were back with a vengeance.

It was getting unbearable.

As things stood, brushing women off did nothing but further fan their pursuit. They saw Byulyi’s actions as a form of flirtation, a game of push and pull. A firm “no” from the athlete came across to these women as flirtatious sarcasm and an invitation to try harder.

What Moonbyul longed for was the ability to say “no” and chase that with “I’m in a relationship. I have a girlfriend.”

Technically, she could tell these women whatever she wanted, but Yongsun was adamantly against them telling anyone outside of their roommates about the new developments in their relationship. Not even Wheein and Hyejin.

_“What would we even tell people, Byulyi?”_

_“That we’re together.”_

_“Byul-ah . . .”_

_“Look, you need time to feel okay with labels. I understand that. No one else needs to know that. The specifics of our relationship can stay between you and me, Yong.”_

_“Byul-ah, **you and I** don’t even know the specifics of our relationship. It may be best if we figure things out first **and then** let people know.”_

“We’re figuring things out” was not an official label and, in college, no label meant a relationship that didn’t need to be respected.

Tonight, then, in the dimmed, crammed apartment belonging to a friend of a friend of a teammate, the more Byulyi said “no” and attempted to joke her way out of interactions with women on the hunt, the more they drunkenly jostled for her attention. What was more frustrating was that it felt **good**. The intentional touches teasingly grazing her exposed forearms, the way a couple of women delicately held onto her neck to get her to bend down “so they could hear her better”, the seductive whispers in her ear . . . Byulyi’s toned stomach muscled clenched with desire.

She **needed** a release.

The woman currently pressed against her seemed to sense that and was putting forth an impressive effort to be the one that put an end to Byulyi’s drought.

Breasts flush against the athlete’s, both of this girl’s arms were firmly wrapped around Byulyi’s waist as she stared up at the senior with nothing but flecks of unadulterated lust in her enchanting monolid eyes. Truthfully, this nameless girl was sexy. An intentionally and perfectly curated sexiness. Everything about her denim bustier crop top, perfectly applied heavy eye makeup, and jet black hair slicked back screamed to Byulyi that **this** is what the woman excelled at. This was her fun—seducing whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Judging by her persistence, it was likely that she usually ended each evening with both.

“What are you doing?” Byul asked at the sudden contact, masking her nerves behind forced chuckles. Arms hanging limply at her side, she looked into the other girl’s eyes, and her eyes **only**. Moments ago, when they were a respectable distance apart, the frazzled athlete saw the tempting outline of the black-haired woman’s chest. Well-endowed, to say the least, ballooning slightly over the edges of the restricting top. By design, of course. One size up would’ve provided ample space for all of **that**. It was why Moonbyul forbade her eyes from venturing any lower, otherwise, they’d be granted a direct line of sight down the other woman’s chest. It would be an enjoyable view, but the more worked up this interaction made her, the more hyperaware Byulyi became.

This wasn’t what or who she wanted right now.

“I’m trying to get your attention,” the girl raised her voice to be heard above the obnoxiously loud hip-hop song that Byulyi only knew because Yongsun played it during Skincare Sunday last week.

“You already did that. We were having a lovely conversation about classes.”

“I don’t want to talk about classes.”

“Okay. We can talk about whatever you want, but I’d want to be able to talk to you properly. I can’t do that in this position,” Byul’s hands floundered about as if to emphasize her point that they were too close for any semblance of a conversation to take place.

It didn’t work.

The young woman grabbed onto Byulyi’s face, fire red acrylic nails sensually scratching along the athlete’s defined jaw.

“Let’s discuss why you don’t find me attractive.” Eyes having fluttered closed as those nails continued their teasing and descended along her neck, those words sent a shiver down Byulyi’s spine. What did her in was the calculated feigned woundedness in the other girl’s voice. **So** fake, but it **worked.**

“Who said that?”

“You’re not acting like you find me attractive.”

“What? Of course you’re attractive,” the athlete’s eyes slowly fell open, skittishly darting about their surroundings. “Objectively,” Byul added belatedly. “Anyone that sees you would say you’re attractive.”

The right hand brushing along her neck stopped its ministrations to grip the brim of Moonbyul’s cap, angling her head downwards until their eyes met, impure thoughts dancing behind both pairs. The athlete’s pulse quickened.

“So you find me attractive?”

“You’re objectively attractive,” she repeated.

“Does that mean you want me?”

Taking a deep breath, all Byulyi could manage was a weak, “You’re dangerous.”

This girl was attractive. She was sexy. A bit over-the-top—Moonbyul tended to gravitate towards more inconspicuous women—but that wasn’t a crime, and it most definitely was **not** a dealbreaker. Something was exciting about her boldness. If not for Yongsun, it’s possible she would have considered entertaining this woman . . . but that was a big “if”.

**If** not for Yongsun.

**If** not for Yongsun, Byulyi wouldn’t be as disastrously horny as she currently was and, as a result, likely wouldn’t be putty in this woman’s hands right now.

This needed to end. Soon.

“I’m not. I’m just a bit down right now because I’m trying everything and nothing’s working. Starting to feel insecure,” came a pout that had surely been practiced to its plump perfection.

“I’m . . . not sure what you want me to say right now.”

“I want you to tell me that you want me,” she took her time speaking into Byulyi’s ear.

At a loss for words, the senior desperately looked around for **anyone** that could get her out of this jam. Thankfully, one pair of beautifully large eyes caught hers and came to her rescue.

“Unnie! There you are!”

“Ah, Yooa-ya!”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Yes! Sorry, about that. I was talking to . . .,” Byulyi’s deep voice faded out, hoping the girl she was with would, in the presence of company, put her hopes of being fucked aside long enough to participate in a tamer conversation.

The name came and went. Byulyi missed it as she tried to convey with her eyes for Yooa to get closer. The distance currently between them sparked no sense of urgency in this other girl to untangle herself from Byul’s body.

Thankfully, once again, Yooa understood, coming to stand at Byulyi’s right side. Close enough to read the plea in the senior’s panicked eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” Yooa started, stopping dramatically with her breath hitching. “Unnie, what’s that buzzing against my leg? Is your phone in your pocket?” Fucking brilliant. Goodness, she was going to hug the shit out of her team manager later. Or tomorrow. Because once she got out of this jam, Byulyi was getting the hell out of here, lest another woman decides it was their turn to try their luck.

“Oh! My phone.” Turning to the girl **still** close enough for her breasts to be pressed against her, Byulyi feigned contrition. “I’m so sorry. I need to step away and take this,” she pulled her phone out and pointed to it.

No promise to continue their conversation at a later came.

That turned out to be enough to end the interaction there because the young woman reluctantly slunk away far enough that Byulyi could turn and whisper a quick “I fucking love you” into Yooa’s ear.

“Geez, unnie. That was intense. She was on a mission.”

“And you just watched! I needed help.”

“It looked like you were into it. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You **know** I wasn’t interested.” While unaware of the new developments between her and Yongsun, Yooa knew how deep Byulyi’s feelings for the graduate student ran.

“She was dangling off of you, unnie.”

“And I was not touching her. Want that on record should this come up at an incriminating time later down the road.”

“I have your back,” Yooa chuckled.

“Think I’m gonna head out soon, though. Don’t need her or someone else coming back and trying to pick up where she left off.” As she said that, Byulyi tapped at her screen until the message had successfully sent.

**To: Yong**

You up? _2:45 am_

Her right foot frantically bouncing up and down, Byul waited only five minutes before sending another message. The need within had yet to subside, desperation at the tips of the fingers that typed out another message.

**To: Yong**

Wyd? _2:50 am_

If Yongsun didn’t respond in 10 minutes, Byulyi would call her.

Of course, she and Yongsun’s odd connection pulled through. Exactly 9 minutes later, three dots teased her, a message fading in at 10 minutes on the dot.

**From: Yong**

“You up?” — No.

“Wyd?” — Sleeping. _3:00 am_

On any other day, at any other time, Byulyi would have appreciated the cheekiness. Would’ve laughed heartily and sent a trolling response in return. Today, there was no time for that.

The high from successfully returning to playing basketball again, the unease over the continued ambiguity of her relationship with Yongsun, and the turbulence stirring within at not having had sex in **months** coalesced into the subsequent message drenched in a desperation she’d rarely fallen victim to before.

**To: Yong**

Can I come over? _3:00 am_

**From: Yong**

I guess? It’s late.

But okay. You know the code. _3:01 am_

The maelstrom of thoughts whirring within Byulyi’s head left no clear understanding of what would happen next, she just knew that she **needed** Yongsun to have said yes. And she did.

She **needed** that.

*

Byulyi also **needed** Yongsun, it seemed.

The moment the green light was given to go to the graduate student’s apartment, the senior hightailed it out of the party, remembering, but not caring about, the clothes she stored in a roommate’s room. The apartment complex where the party took place wasn’t too far from University Village—a 12-minute walk—but, with several teammates living in the other building, Byulyi opted to save time by getting dressed there instead of trekking to UV.

Only a couple days had passed since last seeing Yongsun in person, but the moment Byul entered the familiar door code and slipped past the partially open bedroom door, it was as if she and Yongsun were separated for months. Her body ached with the need to touch, kiss, smell, **anything**, Yongsun. Any possible contact that would even partially alleviate the gnawing pulsing in her lower stomach.

Never, never, never before had Byulyi ever fallen victim to lust in this way.

The room’s layout committed to memory, the athlete skillfully maneuvered about the pitch-black room, carefully easing onto the heightened bed and underneath the thick comforter. Not even waiting for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, Byulyi pressed herself against the older’s back, cuddling her from behind.

Her own heartbeat thrumming in her ears, Byulyi nipped at Yongsun’s right ear before creating a trail of kisses down the blonde’s neck to the base of her throat. Only then did the woman in her arms stir.

“Hey,” the senior’s noticeably deeper voice vibrated against the side Yongsun’s throat before proceeding to suck the available skin there. Taking the older woman’s soft, garbled moans as both a greeting and encouragement, Byulyi continued her lips’ movement. The fire within still blazing, she needed more. “Can I get a kiss, please?” She rasped.

Not hearing any verbal acknowledgment of her question, Byulyi was startled when Yongsun’s left arm reached for, and held onto, her face, keeping her secure as Yongsun’s lips found hers. More awake now, the blonde seemed to sense the urgency in Byul’s actions, leaving her mouth open to receive the eager tongue that entered it.

Thoughts of how far they’d go tonight never crossed Byul’s mind, as it was primarily concerned with ensuring that the soft whimpers coming from the woman in front of her continued. Needing better access to all of Yongsun that very second, she guided the older woman onto her back, swiftly adjusting her own position so that she rested atop the other, jean-clad legs trapping Yongsun’s bare ones betwixt.

Bearing most of her weight on the left forearm, Byulyi carelessly flung her cap away before recapturing Yongsun’s lips. The kisses were frenzied and sloppy, teeth gnashing and grazing anything in their immediate proximity. Only when her lungs began burning from no intake of fresh air did Byulyi pull away, latching immediately onto the previously neglected left side of Yongsun’s neck.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” The words were sloppily thrown out, but imbued with sincerity. So many things about the woman writhing beneath her had driven Moonbyul wild for over a year. This was the first opportunity granted to relieve herself of some of the animalistic desire trapped within. Byulyi fucking **wanted** Yongsun.

“Byul-ah,” the graduate student cooed.

“Tell me what you want, Yong.”

Again, no words. Yongsun instead grabbed Byulyi’s face with both hands, gently caressing the younger woman’s cheeks with her thumbs—what Yongsun wanted was to slow down. With the way goosebumps rang out across Byulyi’s body at the intimate way Yongsun held her face, the athlete knew then and there that she’d likely give and do any damn thing her best friend wanted from here on out. Eyes now accustomed to the darkness they were thrust into earlier, Byulyi smiled dumbly at the woman beneath her who laid there in stark contrast to the woman from the party. The still-unnamed woman’s nails, makeup, outfit, and brash confidence were captivating, enticing. She was sexy.

So, too, though, was this bare-faced Yongsun with her disheveled topknot and oversized t-shirt and shorts. So, so, so sexy.

Relinquishing some of the control, Byulyi only leaned in again for a kiss when Yongsun pulled her in for one. Their pace slowed considerably, languid tongues and lips replacing the frenetic energy from earlier.

It stretched on for minutes, the two women enjoying each other in this way for the first time.

Her hips now sunken between Yongsun’s thighs, Byulyi’s slender fingers roamed, her right hand content with whatever it found during its journey. Matching the pace at which Yongsun’s lips moved up top, her hand marched to the beat of its own drum elsewhere, soothingly rubbing along the left side of Yongsun’s body. From Yongsun’s shoulder to her thigh, Moonbyul went up and down, thrilled that she was even doing this. That she was **here** with Yongsun. On its way up after about its 8th circuit, the athlete’s hand traveled up Yongsun’s thigh, sliding beneath the hem of her shorts.

It wasn’t intentional, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Is this okay?” She pulled her lips away to ask.

“Yeah, it feels good.”

“Okay, good.”

“Good.”

And so, they resumed their kissing, Byulyi’s hand lazily caressing and occasionally squeezing Yongsun’s firm thigh.

Their pace stayed there. Until Yongsun busied herself with sucking the skin along the left side of Byulyi’s neck. The tattooed part of her neck.

“Fuck.”

“Did that hurt?” The older woman asked, slight panic in her voice.

“No, no. It felt good. Very goo–,” her voice suddenly cut off as Yongsun resumed the action, not waiting for the words of reassurance to be completed.

Something about the **way** her best friend moved those **lips**, and the fact that this was the first time since getting her tattoo that anyone had ever kissed her **there** turned a relatively routine act into one more akin to an erotic one.

The yearning in her lower stomach returned in full force, pulsing uncontrollably. Removing her right hand from Yongsun’s thigh, the athlete slipped it instead beneath the older’s nightshirt, teasingly grazing just beneath Yongsun’s left breast.

**This** now marked the furthest they’d ever gone with each other. The way Yongsun froze up at the action made Byulyi still her motions.

“We should probably stop,” the graduate student whispered.

Letting her head flop dramatically into the crook of Yongsun’s neck, Byul groaned at the abrupt ending. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong; I just think we’ll get carried away if we continue.”

“Okay.”

Leaving a tender kiss just below Yongsun’s ear, Byulyi stayed there, resting her head as she came down from everything that just happened. The fingers running through her hair were a welcome surprise, effective in calming her down.

Until Yongsun said it, she hadn’t thought about where their actions were going, but the graduate student was probably right. It might have gone all the way which . . . it was a nagging thought that **shouldn’t **be popping up now of all times, but knowing that Yongsun more than likely had sex with her ex-hookup buddy, she couldn’t help but wonder why she and Yongsun were stalled where they were. It wasn’t a competition and Byulyi wasn’t trying to make it into one, it was just confusing.

Was there something she was doing wrong? Something about her that made Yongsun second-guess taking that next step?

The more she pondered those questions, the more Byulyi decided that she sounded childish. Here she was in Yongsun’s bed, in Yongsun’s arms. That was a **wonderful** position to be in.

Until Yongsun was comfortable with it, sex wasn’t going to happen. And that was fine. Not in the same trying-to-convince-herself way she’d been doing up until now, but in the true meaning of the word “fine”. Their morning was genuinely enjoyable and exciting.

Moonbyul was also grateful that Yongsun didn’t kick her horny ass out of the room the moment she waltzed in and latched onto her neck.

“So . . . Happy Valentine’s Day,” Byul joked weakly, to which Yongsun’s uproarious laughter filled the room. “What?”

“That was the perfect way to end that.”

“‘Perfect’ is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” Shame and embarrassment belatedly kicked in. “And I’m sorry for attacking you like that.”

“I kinda liked it,” Byulyi felt Yongsun shrug. “It was nice.”

“Nice? In this context, that’s not a word that inspires confidence.”

“It was more than nice. If I didn’t like it, I would have stopped things sooner. Plus, you kept checking if I was okay. You weren’t as out of control as you think you were, Byulyi.”

“Mmm.”

Lost in her thoughts, Yongsun brought her back when she spoke again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Yes, clearly, judging by the way you barged in.”

“Let’s move on.”

The conversation hovered around basketball and what the road trip felt like for Byulyi. There were many tidbits she tried texting over the past two days, that, only now in person, could the athlete properly communicate the essence of it all. It felt couple-y. Coming home after a challenging, but fruitful, road trip, and recounting all the details while in bed with her girl.

Keyword: felt.

They were not a couple.

“Does this Valentine’s Day count?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“Because we’re not together, I spent the night at some party, and then I came in and started all of **that**.”

“It counts. This one was very messy, but isn’t that where we are right now? Messy. Still so much to sift through.”

“This is officially our first, then?”

“Yeah, why not? We can do something more traditional next year, I guess.” Yongsun said **that** so nonchalantly that part of Byulyi wondered if she even realized it.

_We can do something more traditional next year, I guess._

That implied there would **be** a next year for them. Byulyi was already of the mind that that would be the case—brainstorming for celebrating Valentine’s Day while she was in Turkey had already commenced—but hearing Yongsun speak this confidently about their future was overwhelming in the best possible way.

It meant this limbo they were in was temporary. There was a light at the end of the tunnel!

“Chorong said we shouldn’t call ourselves friends with benefits. She believes ‘it’s complicated’ is more appropriate.”

“Do you let all your deepest-held thoughts out during pillow talk? Asking for future reference.”

“Shut up!” Yongsun jabbed her. “I’m just letting you know in case you’d prefer to call it that.”

“If you’re more comfortable with that then we can go with that.”

“What about what you want?”

“I want you, a relationship, and to tell everyone that we’re together. I have you, and the other two are works in progress. So, whatever this in-between looks like, I’m fine waiting.”

“What about when you get tired of waiting?”

“‘When’ not ‘if’?”

“It’s a valid question, no?”

“No, it isn’t,” Byulyi answered immediately and directly.

“Mmm.”

Changing topics would be for the best. “What time are you leaving to go to your parents’ house?”

Her sigh indicated she wasn’t happy with the change in the trajectory of the conversation, but Yongsun still answered. “Supposed to leave here at 11:00 am to get to the train.”

Pulling her cell phone from her pocket—it was a surprise she hadn’t felt it there throughout all that transpired—Byulyi read the time. After 4:00 a.m.

“What’s the latest you can arrive at your parents’ home?”

“Probably 2:00 pm. Why?”

“I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“When have I done anything for you because I have to? I’ll set the alarm for 12:30 pm. We can sleep in.”

If she entertained Yongsun’s line of questioning any longer, the good-natured mood would’ve been shot dead in its tracks. It was Valentine’s Day. Their first. Byulyi didn’t want to ruin it. They had a little over eight hours left together and she wanted those hours to be harmonious.

Switching back into their correct positions, Yongsun settled in on Byulyi’s left side, wrapping an arm and a leg around the athlete’s torso and waist, respectively.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Byul-ah. I’m sorry for making you wait but thank you for still doing it.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Yong. You’re worth it.”

“Can I get a kiss?”

“Sorry, I’m all kissed out. Try again tomorrow.”

“This is why I can’t stand you sometimes!”

“Calm down. It was a joke. Come.” Reaching over, Byulyi grabbed Yongsun’s chin, pulling the blonde in for one last chaste kiss. “Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

Another hour elapsed before Moonbyul could find the peace of mind necessary to fall asleep.

Over and over she repeated Yongsun’s words: _“I’m sorry for making you wait but thank you for still doing it.”_

At this point, did she have a choice? Waiting was the only option available.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is there even to say? It’s Wednesday and I haven’t slept in 24 hours. Leave comments if you’d like. Thank you to everyone still riding with this. Even if you don’t leave comments, I appreciate you tremendously.
> 
> Action Item #1: Be safe, stay well.  
Action Item #2: Support Solar’s solo debut on April 23rd, 6 pm KST!
> 
> ETA: I'm not dragging this for the fun of it. No one accused me of that, it’s just been on my mind for several chapters. I'm trying to get things to the point where all things are clicking and addressed so when we speed up/we do time skips, it doesn't feel like anything came out of left field for shock value. I'm struggling right along with you all (and I know how it turns out, which is why I'm trying to get us there without compromising the story) 😩. Things are moving slowly, but they’ll soon be moving quicker.


	46. [M] Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s long. I strongly advise breaking this up into parts.
> 
> Songs:
> 
> \- Surrender x Natalie Taylor*  
\- Chocolate (Feat. Ari Lennox) x Kiana Ledé  
\- Kyiv x Tom Misch & Youssef Dayes  
\- Dive x Victoria Monet  
\- Between Us (Feat. Snoh Aalegra) x dvsn

Tucking her black metallic water bottle beneath her armpit, Yongsun tapped the elevator button that would take her to her floor. It was fleeting, but the frosty cool from the metal, even if only for a millisecond, did wonders in counteracting the heat pooled beneath her fingertips.

She asked for a “birthday body”, and damn Taecyeon if that’s not exactly what he delivered. The training regimen set for her over the past couple weeks was rigorous, tonight’s workout no different, but it was worth it. With only five days until her birthday get-together, she was satisfied with the results. Limbs were firmer, yes—that had been happening since their workouts’ inception 6 months ago—but they now carried the tone she’d always coveted.

Of the handful of spontaneous moments she’d allowed for since her time at SNU, approaching Taecyeon in the UV gym that Saturday night ranked among the ones the graduate student was most grateful for.

Moments after that train of thought expired and the elevator door closed, a chuckle saturated with disbelief escaped her as memories from the evening prior crept in.

**Four** days ago, Yongsun walked herself to the verge of mental exhaustion, head riddled with concerns over why Byulyi wasn’t making any moves on her. Up until that point, the extent of the pair’s physicality was underwhelming. They cuddled while sleeping when one spent the night in the other’s bed, but that was a routine established long before either made public the private feelings they harbored. Since confessing, nothing other than kissing was happening. Not that the kissing was bad. Yongsun’s disappointment was in no way meant as an indictment on Moonbyul’s skills—the athlete’s lips moved with a dexterity Yongsun assumed only came with a lot of practice. Those same lips moved, too, with a fervor indicative of intense attraction, or at least that’s what Yongsun thought. Each time their lips melded, it **felt** like Byulyi was attracted to her. The tender stares, the sweet smiles, the confident lips overpowering hers—textbook signs of attraction that the older woman figured would eventually evolve into more daring behavior.

That was not the case.

Spending that Friday evening poring over possible root causes for their stagnation, Yongsun worked herself into a tizzy before coming to what had to be **the **conclusion: Moonbyul wanted to wait. Why? She didn’t know. But, as someone with an above average ability to see the worst in things, the blonde sifted through her mental fog to identify one of two possibilities. It was either something about Yongsun made Byulyi hesitant to push her luck **or** the athlete preferred an audacious woman unafraid of driving things down a more risqué road. The former, Yongsun decided, was beyond her control, and the latter served only to compound the fear of not being enough that she already internalized.

As thrilling as her experience with Seungyeon was, it would be naïve to think some heavy petting was even a drop in a bucket compared to the experience Byulyi had. If the athlete wanted someone more proactive in initiating sexual acts . . . that was not her. Yet.

After ending things with Seungyeon—hell, even while intermittently seeing her—Yongsun indulged in erotic content on her own time. There was a **rush** that came from doing the things she and Seungyeon did, and the graduate student grew comfortable enough with those actions, those feelings, and with herself to seek out that pleasure on her own time. It was a freeing experience, succumbing to her baser instincts of lust and desire, touching herself as she pleased while conjuring up sensual and lewd scenarios, alike. Regardless of what aroused her on any given day, Yongsun approached it all with no judgment. It was **fun** and she found great pleasure in it.

That was when she was alone, though. In the presence of someone else, the command and confidence slunk away. She desperately wanted to be the woman that held her own in sexual situations, but she just . . . wasn’t. Not yet. She **needed** someone to walk her through things, needed someone to patiently guide her, needed someone more experienced, or at least someone open to discussing all of **that** with her. Seungyeon did that. Took on the responsibility of leading their interactions, allowing space as they went for Yongsun to come into her own and lead when comfortable. The graduate student assumed it would be more of the same with Byulyi but, so far, that was not the case.

The younger woman seemed fine with keeping things where they were.

Until Sunday morning when she burst in like a bat out of hell. That was a new side to Moonbyul, one Yongsun wondered how many other women had been granted access to. In the moment, though, she remembered first feeling relief that Byulyi’s behavior quelled most of her concerns. The way the senior pawed at her made Yongsun feel idiotic for ever having doubted the attraction the athlete felt for her.

Then came her giving in and enjoying how good it felt to have Byulyi on top of her, driven wild by desire. Being wanted felt **good**. Being wanted by Byulyi felt **great**.

And then came slight panic.

Thoughts about sex, Yongsun had those. Thoughts about sex with Byulyi, she had those, too. But **thinking** something and having that same thing happen in reality were very different. The former typically took on a more theoretical, abstract nature, always a “what would happen if” or a “I wonder what I’d do when”. The instant Byulyi’s slender fingers grazed her breast, though, Yongsun internally freaked out. Things had gone further with Seungyeon, but, thinking about it, Yongsun never truthfully thought she and Seungyeon would have sex. There could be as much nipple-sucking and breast fondling as they wanted, things weren’t going further.

That was not the case with Byulyi. Yongsun didn’t know **when**, but it was a foregone conclusion that she and her best friend would have sex. The athlete’s hand only barely touching her underneath her shirt drew Yongsun from her trance, leaving her face-to-face with the fact that, in that moment, she wasn’t ready.

Celebrating her parents on Sunday, Yongsun spent all of Monday with her mother, grateful that she had no class or work, before returning to her apartment that evening. Byulyi visited after basketball practice and their time together contained a lot of the same urgency and need as Sunday morning. Again, it felt great . . . until the hint of more presented itself and Yongsun put a stop to things.

Now confronted with the reality that Byulyi very likely wanted sex, most of the prior week’s concerns were null and void, but the worry over being unprepared and inexperienced remained. Ballooned in size, even.

Surprised by how quickly the elevator ride passed by, Yongsun put an end to the spiral of self-loathing that she was surely about to dive into and walked down the hallway in silence, preferring to not get lost in tumultuous thoughts.

Acknowledging one of her neighbors with a small nod, the blonde absentmindedly tapped her apartment code in and entered. Before the chance to put her water bottle on the kitchen island or remove her sneakers, she was verbally accosted by her roommate, who stood next to the refrigerator with arms crossed.

“I hate you!”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Your face right now literally disgusts me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Yongsun turned her attention for the moment to removing her sneakers before brushing past Chorong to pull a plate from the cabinet.

“You made me like Moon Byulyi,” the other woman pouted.

“I made **who** do **what**?” While her curiosity was piqued, calming the rumbling in her stomach was a priority. Maneuvering around the small kitchen space, the graduate student ignored Chorong while preparing some leftover food. The pin-drop silence that followed indicated that Chorong’s tantrum required her full attention so, once she placed the food in the microwave, Yongsun turned to face her roommate once more.

“Okay, what were you saying?”

The response came immediately. “You made me like Moon Byulyi.”

“First, you don’t need to say her full name every time you repeat yourself.”

“It’s for the effect.”

“I’d say your opening sentence had enough effect.”

“Didn’t want to assume.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“This is a year for growth and self-improvement.”

“Hard to believe, but okay. Now, how exactly do **I** factor into **making** you like Byulyi?”

“Because if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have to be around her and the deathblow to my dislike for her wouldn’t have happened tonight!” She was back to whining.

“What happened?” Yongsun asked. Her attention was once again on the food revolving slowly in the microwave, but the smile creeping onto the other woman’s face did not go unnoticed. A drama queen through and through.

“Okay! So! You were at the gym with Taecyeon—tell him to respond to my message about your birthday party, by the way. He asked if he could bring his girlfriend and I said yes but he never responded after that. Anyway! You were in the gym and I was watching tv in the living room, but I heard the beeps from the door go off, so I assumed you ran up here to get something you forgot. I look up and it’s fucking Moonbyul, just standing there staring back at me like she’s surprised to see me. As if **I don’t fucking live here**. Whatever. So I look at her and I’m like, ‘Do you need something?’ and she goes, ‘Where’s Yongsun?’ And, I don’t know, I was annoyed by her presence, so I just said, ‘Not here.’”

“Rongie,” Yongsun’s gently scolded. Not that her reprimand of Chorong now would change what happened in the past.

“I know, I know. But it was so annoying. I missed part of my show because of her. Instead of getting mad or giving a rude response back, which I definitely thought she would, she asked, in this really soft voice, ‘Do you know where she is?’ So I asked her what the issue was and, I shit you not, she goes, ‘She had a long day today, so I bought us dinner after practice and texted her, but she didn’t answer, so I called her. She didn’t answer my calls either. I was worried.’”

“Stop!”

“Yes! I had the same reaction as you,” Chorong pointed to the hands now clutching Yongsun’s chest and the soft smile on the blonde’s face. “It was **so** sweet. And it pissed me off **so **much. I wanted to stay strong and not like her, but I couldn’t help it. She got me.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Chorong confirmed with a forlorn expression. “I hated it. I felt so weak and disappointed in myself. In the end, I, too, became a casualty of Moon Byulyi.”

“You’re so dramatic. Did you tell her where I was, at least?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I told her you were in the gym. Why were you avoiding my girl?”

“Your girl?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“You’ve spent years as a staunch opponent–”

“A year of **growth**, Yongsun. What about that did you not understand?”

“This has to be a sick joke.”

Saved by the beeping from the microwave timer, Yongsun collected her food from the microwave and made herself comfortable in the living room, fully aware that Chorong followed behind her.

“So . . .”

“What?”

“Why were you avoiding her? She was worried.”

Letting out a disbelieving snicker, Yongsun shook her head. “I forgot my phone in my room. By the time I realized, it was too late to go back for it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

For the first time since entering the apartment, Yongsun experienced true peace and quiet. Assuming there wasn’t much else to say, she figured her roommate would slither away any moment now.

She should’ve known better.

“She likes you, y‘know.”

“I’m aware.”

Chorong scoffed at her roommate’s flippant tone. “Stop being an asshole.”

“Ridiculous statements deserve ridiculous responses.”

“She **really** likes you, Yongie.”

“Yeah. I know,” the slightly older woman softened.

“It was so cute how concerned she was. She looked like a lost puppy.”

“Stop, Chorong.”

“I’m being serious! I knew she liked you or whatever, but she seems to be **deep** into it. I didn’t know she had it that bad.”

“And you came to this conclusion after only speaking to her for a couple minutes?” Yongsun asked disbelievingly.

“Yes. I did. That’s how strongly her affection for you shone through.”

“Okay, Chorong.”

“I’m being serious. It’s no secret that I haven’t been her biggest fan over the years, but that’s been due to what I’ve heard about the shitty treatment other women have dealt with because of her. You have said time and time again that she’s not like that. Now that I listen to you, it’s a problem?”

“When you make the switch that quickly, yes.”

“Obviously my change of heart is conditional. If she fucks you over, I’ll fuck her up, but the brief talk with her was very eye-opening. That girl is really into you. I’m a believer.”

“Mmm.”

“Have any benefits been sprinkled into the relationship since we last spoke about it?”

Yongsun sucked in as much air as she could before letting out an unreasonably loud sigh.

It did nothing to wash away the expectant look on Chorong’s face.

“No, not yet.”

“And she’s not fucking other people?”

“No.” That response came immediately. _“I just want it to be you and me.”_ That’s what Byulyi said weeks ago when the two discussed their relationship. And if there’s one thing Yongsun trusted, it was that Byulyi was serious when she said that.

“So she’s not fucking anyone else and she’s not fucking you?” Chorong asked with a brow raised.

“Chorong.”

“Look, I’m just saying! You need to slide my girl some coochie. The poor thing is probably suffering.”

“First of all, stop calling her your girl.”

“Jealous?”

“Not at all. It’s just annoying.”

“I’m sure getting no action is just as annoying.”

The thought hadn’t crossed her mind: while she was theorizing and fretting over sex, Byulyi was waiting patiently. No complaints, no pressure for more. Just waiting.

Yongsun felt like a fuck up for not having previously considered that perspective.

“It’s not as easy as you’re making it seem,” she sighed.

“Why not? Are you waiting for marriage or something?” If not for the fact that Chorong was the only person Yongsun could discuss this with, she would’ve told her roommate and the disgusted sneer sitting on her face to go to hell.

“No. I’m not waiting for marriage, Chorong.”

“Then what? You’re a virgin, fine, but if you’re serious about eventually being in a relationship with her, the two of you are gonna have sex, Yong. Like, it’s gonna happen. Unless you end things with her and go fuck someone else, **she’s** gonna be the one you have your first time with.”

“I know all this. And I’m not opposed to it, I just . . . I don’t want to be bad at it,” Yongsun finally admitted out loud, all the while avoiding eye contact with the woman beside her.

“Come here,” Chorong pulled her into a side hug. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“No! That would be awkward.”

“It might be awkward, it might not be. Another option in case you don’t want to talk to her about it, just sit on her face.”

“Rongie!” Despite herself, Yongsun smiled at her roommate’s crass comment.

“I’m serious. That’s probably the best part about you holding out—she won’t notice if you suck because she’ll be grateful for **anything**.”

“It may be hard to believe, but, ‘this is good sex because I’m desperate and will take any crumbs given’ isn’t really the vibe I was aiming for.”

“You’ll be **fine**. I can’t imagine you being **bad** at sex. You give off a very strong ‘lady in the street, freak in the sheets’ vibe. My radar is also picking up a lot of, ‘I like it nasty.’”

“Okay, I think we’re done here.”

“It’s okay! I like it nasty, too. Last week, I asked Insoo to fuck me whil–”

“I do not want to hear about it! Please,” Yongsun pushed out of Chorong’s embrace, suddenly needing the distance between them.

“What? That’s what friends do. You’re acting like you’re not going to give me details once you and Moonbyul start having sex.”

Thinking further on that, Yongsun could admit that if the sex was as good as she hoped it would be, she’d need someone to brag to. Chorong would likely be the one she chose to share **those** details with.

“Fine. Let’s save that talk for when she and I get there. How about that?”

“No one has years to wait for that.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Speaking of assholes–”

“Changing topics! Eric’s coming to the party this weekend. Is that going to be awkward?”

“You’re giving **big** virgin energy right now. Let me tell Moonbyul to hurry up and take care of business so you can stop acting like sex is the biggest deal ever. The only one still hung up on me and Eric having sex months ago is **you**. I even told Insoo and he didn’t make a big deal about it.”

“You told your boyfriend about someone else you had sex with?”

“Yes, that’s how adults handle things. While I doubt it would come up at any point, I didn’t want to take any chances that he’d be blindsided by the news.”

“What did he say?”

“What could he say? I didn’t do anything wrong. We weren’t seeing each other back then. I had a life before him, and he had a life before me.”

“That’s very mature.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“It’s not a dig at you, I just can’t imagine talking that candidly about stuff like that with someone I’m seeing.”

“Well . . . start imagining it. You’ll need to do a lot of that to keep the relationship going strong.”

“Are you a relationship expert suddenly?”

“Compared to you? Yes. That’s why I keep you around. So that I look good.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re mentioning assholes an awful lot for someone that claims to not want to hear my story about assholes.”

It was the reset they needed, the pair laughing uncontrollably before spending another half hour discussing their housing situation for the following year.

The lease to their UV apartment didn’t end until July, but they agreed that the sooner they got themselves sorted out, the better. Staying at UV was an option—the apartment complex was technically open to all—but neither looked favorably on living as young professionals surrounded by university students. Leaning towards finding alternative living spaces, then, the search picked up steam once Yongsun took it more seriously. Combining their efforts, they identified several apartments as possibilities. That list dwindled as they began doing visits, leaving them with three final options. Their quick huddle on the couch that evening served as a level-set. Confirming their self-imposed timeline and ensuring both of them still felt comfortable with their final choices, Yongsun and Chorong retired to their rooms for the evening.

The smell of dried sweat almost made her gag, but before hopping into the shower, Yongsun fished her cell phone from her comforter and sent Byulyi a message.

**To: Byul-ah**

Heard you were looking for me 👀 _9:10 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

Yeah, you fell off the face of the earth. _9:10 pm_

**To: Byul-ah**

Sorry! Forgot my phone in the room when I went to the gym.

Wasn’t ignoring you. _9:10 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

Did your roommate tell you I bought food? _9:11 pm_

**To: Byul-ah**

She did, but I ate already. _9:11 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

Take it for your lunch tomorrow. _9:11 pm_

**To: Byul-ah**

Ok! I’ll come get it after I shower. _9:12 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

You have time to stay and hang out for a bit? _9:12 pm_

**To: Byul-ah**

Maybe 🙄 _9:13 pm_

**From: Byul-ah**

Kay. Hurry up and clean yourself. I can smell you from here.

See you soon 🥰 _9:13 pm_

*

The almost-birthday girl sat staring into space. In the dimmed room, with strobe lights and heavy bass dancing unpredictably against the walls, and her friends zooming every which way, it was easy to get lost among the commotion. Too much was going on.

Yongsun preferred to just sit and be. That’s what she very slowly repeated to herself. _I just want to sit and relax for a moment._

In reality, there was no “preference”—it wasn’t a choice. Hyejin had ordered the older woman to stay put on the couch. Feeling as light as a feather, her head the lightest of all, Yongsun’s body only stayed upright thanks to Wheein and Eric on either side of her. Both were equally intoxicated and had just as much trouble keeping themselves up. It explained the strong scolding the youngest gave each of them minutes ago before strutting off in her impressively high heels to fetch each of them some water.

The dinner party started calmly, each of her friends on their best behavior as they broke bread.

That was three hours ago when the lights were on and everyone was in their right mind enough to form coherent sentences. Stories about the woman of the night were tossed around with ease, everyone eager to share a moment of significance that they, too, shared with Yongsun. It’s why Chorong—of course it was Chorong—added the rule.

_“If you tell a story about Yongsun to the group, you have to drink afterward. And Yongsun has to drink every time someone tells a story about her.”_

_“No! Then I’d have to drink after every story!”_

_“Exactly! Remember, don’t bitch out!” Her roommate snickered, the rest of the group gradually joining in on the laughter._

It made sense, then, that the ones with the least control of themselves were Eric, Chorong, and Wheein. The former knew her the longest among everyone else in the room and was too full of himself to accept that he wasn’t immune to the effects of alcohol. Buoyed by the presence of her boyfriend, and determined to get Yongsun to make a fool of herself, Chorong filled every silence with anecdotes about life as the birthday girl’s roommate. And Wheein . . . Wheein caught the shit end of whatever deal she and Hyejin had to alternate which one of them would drink when they went out. Hyejin “did it last time” they went out together and charged Wheein with bearing the brunt of tonight’s drinking responsibilities.

_“She’ll be fine. She can drink,” the youngest assured a quickly declining Yongsun while simultaneously continuing to feed Wheein stories of her own to share with the group._

Welp.

Giggling at how catastrophically that backfired on Hyejin, who was now responsible for a sloppy Wheein, Yongsun’s mind—with great effort—travelled back to earlier in her week. A moment that likely wasn’t as funny as her hazy mind now found it to be.

** _From: Byul-ah_ **

_You have time to stay and hang out for a bit? 9:12 pm_

Covering her mouth, the blonde giggled into her hand at the “hanging out” she and Moonbyul did that Tuesday evening. It was more of the same as what happened on Valentine’s Day: lots of kissing, hints of daring touching. Truly, nothing too out of the ordinary. But the soju, beer, and other liquor she’d swallowed throughout the evening convinced her that it was the funniest thing ever that that was now what “hanging out” meant for them. Yongsun found it adorable, reminiscent of what she assumed high school crushes did, sneaking away to “hang out”. Cute.

Smile dying on her lips, she sighed sadly, remembering for the umpteenth time that evening that Byulyi wasn’t present. Given how far away the basketball team’s games this weekend were, Yongsun knew that the athlete wouldn’t be present. However, logic didn’t stop her from holding out hope that any moment now, Moonbyul would rush in and surprise her. That, too, died, though, when a seemingly stressed Hyejin appeared in front of her, crouching down to eye level.

“Unnie, where’s your phone?”

Forgetting that the fabric clinging to her body like second skin left no room for storing anything, Yongsun absentmindedly patted her body before innocently shrugging.

“She doesn’t know,” Hyejin sighed into her own cell phone, sweeping her straightened black hair over one exposed shoulder.

“How doesn’t she know?” Yongsun heard a familiar voice filter through.

“She’s drunk, unnie. That’s how she doesn’t know. Wheein,” Hyejin ignored her phone for a moment and aggressively tapped her childhood friend, “sit up. Drink this water.”

“Is that Byulyi!” Yongsun’s face brightened.

“Oh my goodness. Wheein, sit up and drink this. Yongsun-unnie, come with me.”

Ensuring the cup of water in Wheein’s hand was in no danger of tipping over, Hyejin grabbed Yongsun’s bare arm and pulled the older woman out of their room and into the bright hallway.

“Here,” the phone was placed in Yongsun’s hand. “Do **not** drop my phone, unnie. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Byul-ah!” She ignored Hyejin’s words. The athlete’s background was darker than their party room, but it would do. Yongsun could make her features out just fine.

“I heard you were disruptively drunk.”

“No . . . Do I look drunk to you?” Preening in the camera’s phone, Yongsun tried smiling innocently.

“100%,” soft giggles came through, putting a genuine smile on Yongsun’s face. “I can’t stay too long because reception is spotty as we drive through different towns, but happy birthday, drunkie.”

“It’s not my birthday ye–” she tapped the screen, surprised by the time. “It’s my birthday!”

“Oh gosh. Please slow down with the drinks for the rest of the night.”

“You’re not coming?”

“We’re still over two hours away. The game got delayed. We didn’t start until 8:00 pm and didn’t hit the road until 11:00 pm. I’m sorry,” Yongsun could make out a frown.

“S’okay. It’s not your fault. I still miss you though. I wish you were here.”

Sinking against the wall behind her, Yongsun sat on the floor, ignoring the way her already short dress rode further up her thighs.

“Who’s there?”

“The usual. Wheein, Hyejin, Eric. Chorong and the rest of the ‘91ers.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, Jinyoung’s here” Yongsun sighed, answering the true question Byulyi was asking.

“Mmm. Who else?”

“Chorong’s boyfriend is here, but you don’t know him. Taecyeon and his girlfriend. That’s it.” No Seungyeon. Chorong said she extended an invitation, but the other woman politely declined, citing a social event for work.

Shifting the conversation, Yongsun strung enough words together to inquire about Byulyi’s game. The athlete’s impassioned response was full of too much detail for her to process, but Yongsun nodded along, nonetheless. She caught the gist and that was all that mattered: the team won and Byulyi played well during her still-limited minutes.

“This outfit . . .” The senior drawled after turning on the light above her seat in the bus. The glow washing over here helped tremendously with improving Youngsun’s view.

Byulyi received pictures earlier but the blonde was excited to show her ensemble in real-time. Angling the phone, she did a quick sweep of her body, eventually returning the camera to her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“How am I looking at you?” Byulyi smirked.

“Like **that**.”

“Like what?”

“Byul-ah!”

Her soft chuckled subsided, leaving earnestness behind. “You look good. **Very** good.”

“Thank you,” Yongsun felt her face heating up.

“You’re welcome.”

Shy smiles and glances exchanged, neither said anything else, but were fine sitting in silence.

“Unnie!” Hyejin peeked her head out the room door. “Everyone else is noticing the time and they’re looking for you. They want to sing to you. Time to go.”

“Hyejin-ah,” she protested.

“Time. To. Go.” The younger woman exited the room fully, grabbing her phone from weak fingers. “Byul-unnie, you said a few minutes.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m not.”

“She has to go now. The other drunk people are rioting.”

“Sounds miserable.”

“It is.”

“Make Wheein be the responsible one from now on.”

“I just might have to.”

“Okay,” Byulyi cleared her throat, “bye, Yong,” she spoke louder, attempting to have her voice carry.

“Bye,” Yongsun clutched onto Hyejin’s right arm, thrusting her face into view.

“Hyejin, watch her drinking.”

“Obviously.”

“Bye, Byul-ah.”

“Bye, Yong.”

“Bye, Byu–” the video was shut off before Yongsun could finish. “Hyejin!”

“You two said goodbye enough times. Let’s go.”

The group continued the celebration for another few hours, Yongsun’s inhibitions and memory slipping away with the time.

Her heels were discarded at some point—she only noticed when gripped by suspicion at how great her balance while dancing on one of the chairs was.

Her phone reappeared at some point—Chorong mistook it for her own, spending far too long growing frustrated at why her code wasn’t working and why Byulyi would be messaging her and not Yongsun.

But the last clear—and that was in thick quotations—memory she had was Jinyoung approaching her. The young man was struggling just as much as she was with the amount of alcohol imbibed throughout the evening, but it was endearing watching him try not to let it show.

“Except for Hyejin and Insoo-oppa, we’re all shitshows, Jinyoung,” she broke the ice after he walked up to her and stood there, bopping to the music too on-beat to be natural and too off-beat to endure any longer.

“I guess so,” he smiled bashfully. “Happy birthday. Couldn’t find a moment for us to talk alone earlier.”

“Thank you for the birthday wishes,” she bumped her shoulder into his side, harder than anticipated, but he seemed to understand it was meant to be reassuring.

“You look beautiful tonight. The blonde hair is still going strong, huh.”

“Not at all. I may need to get rid of it soon. Too hard to keep up.”

“Well, it looks good on you. How have you been?”

Looking up at the man to her left, she answered honestly. It was a benign enough question. “A bit stressed. So much change happening. But I’m okay. You?”

“The same. Getting ready for life after school.”

“Mmm.”

“Outside of school and work, how’s life?” This entire conversation happened, for the most part, with both of them watching the movements of everyone else in the room, neither making the move to face each other.

“Outside of school and work?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat several times then took a sip from the bottle in his hand. “How’s all of that going?”

Alcohol was supposed to make people less self-conscious, that Yongsun remembered. But despite having drunk more that evening than she remembered him normally doing, this conversation was muting his liquor’s confidence-boosting abilities. It was also amplifying Yongsun’s cluelessness and idiocy, because the question, a clear attempt at mining for information, left her confused as to how to answer.

“There’s more to life than school and work?”

Jinyoung laughed, thinking it a joke, but Yongsun’s response was serious. Lids beginning to droop, talking and thinking weren’t actions she thought she should be doing much more of. “Maybe. For some people.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Y‘know . . . relationships and stuff.”

“Oh!” She belatedly realized what he was trying to get at.

“Yeah. How’s that . . . going? I don’t want to assume it is. But I’m not assuming it isn’t!” He tried to not offend.

“Oh. I don’t know. It’s going, I guess. You?”

“Trying to make more time for that.”

“Mmm.”

“Are you . . . seeing anyone?” Forced nonchalance coated each syllable.

**This** was why the conversation stood among one of her last memories for the night. Talking to an ex is always a dance. The amount of **honest** information divulged depended on how amicably things between the parties involved ended. For many, it took a mental effort to draft the perfect strategy and approach to such a conversation. That was when at one’s best.

Yongsun was not at her best. She was not **close** to her best. She was impressively drunk. As such, venturing into these murky waters with a man who, while sweet and kind, had been making it a point to mention how beautiful she looked tonight, was not smart. Discussing her love life with him was not the way to go. She wanted and needed to put an end to **that** talk.

So . . . yeah, even though Byulyi’s pretty, cute, attractive face came to mind, she left things at a vague “Uh . . . I don’t know. I’m just trying to find a job and a place to live right now.”

Jinyoung stammered something about being in the same situation—his family had money, so . . . that was a lie—before moving to less invasive small talk and ultimately excusing himself to head to the restroom. When he returned, he walked up to Changsub, their glances in her direction making clear the topic of their conversation.

*

When and how she made it to her bed, Yongsun couldn’t recall. Other details from the previous evening of partying were also murky, bits and pieces fading in and out, never once stringing together to create a singular playback of the night’s events. Then again, maybe the excessive liquid sloshing about her stomach was detail enough.

What a way to start 25.

The resulting distressed groan came from the blonde’s throat, but it might as well have come from the depths of her soul the way it physically and emotionally pained her to acknowledge the milestone age. She was 25 years old. **Where** had the time gone? **What **had she accomplished? **Who** was she? Those were the questions one was supposed to ask of themselves at this stage in life, right? The big ones meant to gauge how productive an individual had been with the time granted to them.

Most of her friends had already found their “thing”. Byulyi had basketball, Hyejin had style and fashion, Wheein had art. They excelled at each of those. What did she have? Her special talent was working hard. Not the most marketable skill. Not the most fun either. What did she **enjoy**? What was her passion? Did she need to have one? Maybe making it this far, with the education she’d picked up along the way, was enough of an accomplishment? Honestly, it’s what her life revolved around up until now. Work hard to get a good education. Never had the young woman thought beyond that, likely because procuring the degrees she set her sights on had always seemed so distant.

Turning onto her stomach, Yongsun stuffed her face into her now-warm pillow.

She always did this. Second-guessed herself and nitpicked everything. Chorong might have been onto something with her “growth and self-improvement” spiel on Tuesday. Constantly demeaning herself was an inefficient and unproductive use of her time. Especially while battling the lingering effects of a nasty hangover.

Needing all her energy dedicated to pushing aside her growing nausea, Yongsun quickly reframed her circumstances so that she could ease her mind and, hopefully, go back to sleep: she paid her way through college and earned a degree from a respected institution, was months away from earning a graduate degree from one of the best universities in the country, and had contributed greatly to laying the foundation for infrastructure improvements at The Center meant to maximize athletes’ learning capabilities. She was also navigating what would likely become a significant romantic relationship. Not too shabby for 25.

Leaving the issue alone for now, the blonde pulled her comforter over the back of her head and focused on counting her breaths as she wished, hoped, and prayed sleep would soon overtake her.

*

_1:34 pm_

In her head, the sleep she would’ve gotten would have lasted longer than four hours. But here she was, face still planted in her pillow, with an incessant ringing not alcohol-related buzzing in her right ear. Whoever this was refused to let Yongsun know peace.

Her arms inched outside the confines of the comforter, fingers meeting the hardened case of her cell phone before immediately snatching it into the darkness. By then, the chimes of her ringtone subsided.

A tingle of relief shot through her body at the realization that an elongated period of quiet was once again with her grasp. It was short-lived, though, as the ringer sprung to life once more.

Peeking out of one eye, Yongsun wasn’t surprised by who it was terrorizing her. Swiping right to answer, the graduate student put her phone on speaker before dropping it beside her on her pillow.

A garbled groan was all the person on the other end was given to work with.

“Suspicions confirmed.”

“Did the unanswered calls not do enough to confirm suspicions?”

“They did.”

“Then why keep calling?”

“Because I can.”

“I’m hanging up.”

As annoying as she was, Byulyi’s subdued laugh was comforting. “Wanted to make sure you were up so that I could come over.”

“Who says I want you to come over?”

“Oh please. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Wait! Give me more time so I can shower.”

“Fine,” Moonbyul conceded. “Only because it’s your birthday. Text me when you’re done.” The line went dead afterward.

Not even on her birthday could Byulyi give it a rest. With more energy, the antagonization was a fun two-way street—both participated, giving and receiving. In this condition, though, Yongsun couldn’t receive **or** give. She just wanted to rest.

After allowing time for the mini-tantrum she’d been holding in, the young woman rolled out of bed and into the shower, disrobing and picking up the products needed along the way.

Head submerged beneath the steady stream of water from the showerhead, Yongsun basked in the liquid’s warmth, the clouds of steam seemingly forcing her pores open and removing the filth from the night before. It served her well, clearing her head and cleaning her body.

Who knows how long she stood there, enjoying the feel of the droplets clinging to her skin, taking their time running down her body, but she eventually concluded that enough was enough. She wouldn’t put it past Moonbyul to decide this was taking too long and storm in unannounced, so Yongsun shut off the water. Hopping out of the shower, she grabbed her towel and began wrapping herself in it when a cursory glance downward stilled her actions.

It was a decision made while getting ready the day before, a last-minute one. _“Don’t bitch out,”_ Chorong shouted over the music from their living room that afternoon as they pre-gamed the pre-game to the dinner party. And so, the theme of the evening was born. Don’t bitch out.

Something about the excitement surrounding the night’s events to come had her drunk on confidence before she later became drunk on alcohol. The talk and thoughts about sex, specifically, sex with Byulyi, didn’t seem as daunting in the moment. Instead, Yongsun welcomed the possibility and spontaneously shaved between her legs just in case a miracle happened and the athlete made it back to town earlier than anticipated, leading to the two taking advantage of the sensually-charged atmosphere that Yongsun remembered had clung to everything.

Fast-forward to the present, the graduate student let out a soft chuckle at the difference several hours could make. Now groggy and cranky, the same salacious thoughts couldn’t be further from her mind right now.

Proceeding with her routine, she got dressed, settling into a tank top and a pair of sweatshorts—the nippy February air outside had no effect on her inside the comfortably heated apartment—and hopped back into her bed with a towel wrapped securely atop her head. Lying on her back, she slung her left arm across her forehead while scrolling through her phone. A message was already sent to Byulyi, so her peace and quiet would come to a screeching end at any moment now.

She responded to a handful of birthday messages and had just started checking out the Instagram posts she was tagged in when the sound of plastic bags rustling traveled down the hallway. Moments later, Moonbyul barged in.

“Still sleeping, drunkie?”

“Go away,” Yongsun groaned, rolling over to hide her face.

“Still drunk, drunkie?” Byulyi laughed boisterously, hopping onto the bed and wrapping her long limbs around the older woman.

“Leave me alone,” Yongsun laughed despite herself.

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” the athlete continued her laughter. “On the phone, it was all, ‘I miss you. I wish you were here. I miss you.’”

“Shut up!”

“Oh? You don’t miss me anymore? Hmm? Hmm?” Byulyi’s voice grew soft as she placed tender kisses on Yongsun’s right cheek.

“No.”

“No? Aww, I missed you, though.” She continued with her kisses, hugging Yongsun tighter.

Turning her head, the smaller woman came eye-to-eye with her best friend, small smiles tugging at both pairs of lips.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, Byul-ah,” she shyly responded.

“Come, get up. I went out to get you some haejangguk. I’m 1000% certain you haven’t eaten anything yet.” Staying quiet, Yongsun rolled her eyes, secretly appreciating the other’s excitement at being correct.

Allowing herself to be dragged to the living kitchen-living room, Yongsun’s eyes lit up at the display awaiting her.

“You said there was haejangguk.”

“I didn’t say I bought **only** that.”

There was **food**. The hangover soup, yes, but lots of chicken, tteokbokki, and another soup container. “You got me miyeokguk?” Yongsun asked, already opening the lid to the traditional birthday soup.

“You made it for me last year,” the athlete hastily brushed off the thoughtful action. “I didn’t trust my culinary skills enough to try my hand at making it on my own though, so I’m sorry it’s store-bought.” As Byulyi busied herself with rubbing her neck out of embarrassment, Yongsun took the time to really **look** at her. She looked **good.** Usually hidden beneath oversized sweatshirts, the athlete’s hard work in the gym was on full display today. Donning Nike from head to toe, she wore a grey fitted compression tank and running shorts, white crew socks, and black slides. Sculpted legs and arms finally in full view, the outline of her abs imprinted through the top’s fabric, wide shoulders framing her body—it was glorious. In the blink of an eye, the indecent thoughts from the days before reappeared.

Byulyi was sexy. A very attractive woman. Physically . . . goodness. It couldn’t be stated enough how strong she was. The intricate web of green-blue veins shooting up her thick forearms was dangerously enticing. There was likely a genetic explanation for how prominent the veins were, but Yongsun preferred to attribute their existence to the immense amount of weightlifting and training Moonbyul did. She was just so . . . big and strong and . . . still endearingly embarrassed about having purchased the seaweed soup instead of making it from scratch. Her hard exterior—a literal one—was infinitely more attractive because of how soft and sweet the athlete was in every other way.

Despite time feeling like it stretched forever, Yongsun’s ogling only lasted a few seconds. Distracting herself with fetching plates for their food, the older woman hid her growing arousal behind the sarcasm that had not-so-secretly become “their” way of communicating. A defining characteristic of their relationship.

“What are you? A Nike model or something?”

“Funny you should say that,” Byulyi perked up.

“No . . .”

“Yes . . .”

“This can’t be real life,” Yongsun mumbled. Unfortunately for her, the apartment’s silence amplified her words.

“You should be happy for me! I can get you free things.”

“Who at that company decided they wanted **you** as a model?”

“Okay, that was rude. I’ll have you know that I’d make a great model.”

“How would you know? You’re always behind a camera taking stalker photos.”

“Stalker is a bit harsh,” the athlete’s enthusiasm dwindled.

“Not harsh enough,” Yongsun continued as she filled both of their plates with some food and began arranging the side dishes.

“Let me take care of that, go sit on the couch. It’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be lifting a finger.”

“I’m 25, not 75, Byul-ah. I can handle fixing a few plates.”

“You sure? With the way you sounded yesterday, I’m surprised you’re even able to stand right now.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Ask Hyejin. You were a walking alcohol bottle.”

“Not even going to dignify that with a response.”

“That’s exactly what you say every time you have nothing to say.”

“Hurry up and bring me my food, maid,” Yongsun ignored Byulyi’s correct observation while getting comfortable on the couch.

Thankfully, the brunette dropped the issue, doing exactly as Yongsun asked by bringing their food over. Yongsun didn’t know which part of their banter it was that affected Byulyi, but her spirits weren’t as high as before. Feeling bad, she allowed space for them to dig into their meals in silence before circling back to the modeling thing. Hoping that put her friend in better spirits, Yongsun was relieved when Byulyi animatedly recounted the story of how that all went down.

According to the athlete, it was something Sungho, Byulyi’s agent, had been floating around for a while, only days ago confirming that the lifestyle brand was open to signing her on as a Nike athlete. Already a sponsor for the Korean National Team and SNU Women’s Basketball Team, there was a tenuous working relationship already established, but her agent worked diligently to brand Byulyi as part of the new generation of Korean athletes that would revitalize the nation’s athletic reputation globally. Early talks included a campaign meant to highlight each “member” of that esteemed group, followed by integration into other Nike campaigns as deemed fit.

It wasn’t the only news Byulyi had regarding her career, also dropping bombshell details about her contract with Fenerbahçe: 3 years, a structured salary starting at $230,000 USD. With plenty of help from the Turkish team, her visa situation was sorted out, leaving signing the contract as the only thing left to do. That would come at the end of March or the start of April, whenever SNU’s run in the playoffs officially ended.

“That’s . . . a lot of money, Byul.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty nuts. The coach has been stressing that they see me as an important part of the team. The roster’s pretty stacked, so I know I won’t be starting, but I might be expected to contribute with the second- or third-string players. We’ll see.”

“And you’re fine with that?” Going from **the** star to a benchwarmer didn’t come across as an easy transition to make.

“That team wins championships **every** year. The fact that they’re even expecting me to see court time, I’m happy with.” The words were sincere.

“Three years . . .”

“There’s an opt-in clause for the third. It’s two years guaranteed, I can decide if I stay the last year or not.”

Two years. At least.

That’s what Yongsun would be signing up for if . . . when walking into their relationship. Two years on her own while Byulyi traveled the world achieving her basketball dreams. It sounded miserable, not something anyone thinking logically would willingly step into.

Humming her acknowledgment, she filled her mouth with food to have a valid reason to not verbalize anything further.

“I wouldn’t be gone the entire time,” the younger woman tripped over herself to assuage the concerns she knew had invaded Yongsun’s head. “Only September to March. I’d spend the off-season back here at home. And we have the Asia Cup this year and the World Cup next year, so I’ll be home more often for National Team training camps.”

_Only September to March_. As if 8 months apart was no big deal. Even if Byulyi came home two or three times during those 8 months, they’d still go months without seeing each other.

But the younger woman was doing her best to present things positively, and Yongsun didn’t want to sour her birthday by playing the role of Debbie Downer, so she steered clear of the deeper conversation that lay beneath still waters.

“$230,000 USD, huh? You’re worth big money.”

“Yeah, you should claim me now while you have the chance.”

And there Byulyi went shoving her headfirst into the very waters she aimed to avoid. It was meant as a joke, Yongsun knew this, and if they weren’t in the fragile arrangement that they found themselves in, her friend’s forced laughter would have been genuine and she, Yongsun, would have at least chuckled. Instead, the older of the two let out an exasperated sigh. The frustration wasn’t with the woman to her left, well, not fully. From Byulyi’s perspective, it made sense to periodically poke and prod, remind Yongsun of the end goal. A relationship.

That didn’t make it any less annoying at times to deal with.

A lot of what they already did resembled a relationship. They looked like a couple, Yongsun wasn’t foolish, not completely. It was fine with her. She was comfortable with Byulyi and looked forward to their relationship growing into something more beautiful than it already was. Her worries, though, didn’t come with the relationship “officially” starting, but with the thought of the relationship ending. They were a train moving at full speed that would only stop in the event of a crash or other catastrophic event. And with each day that passed, a new concern arrived, exacerbating Yongsun’s apprehension. Whether it be her inexperience romantically and sexually or the distance and time that would physically—and possibly emotionally—separate her and Moonbyul, Yongsun felt there were valid reasons to stop and reflect on the state of things between them. But, despite claiming it was the opposite and doing her best to not let it show, Byulyi was feeling pressure from the dwindling time they had left. The graduate student could tell; there was a strong inverse correlation between the time remaining until Byulyi left for Turkey and the number of times the athlete “joked” about them making things official.

They weren’t on the same page right now.

It’s what both skirted around outright saying. It’s why, exactly one week ago, Yongsun inquired about what would happen when Byulyi grew tired of waiting.

She never got an answer.

Maybe it was the universe finally having some mercy on them, but the sound of a creaking door sailed down the hallway, offering a much-needed distraction. An unfamiliar body—to Byulyi, at least—came into their line of vision moments later.

“Ah, Yongsun-ssi. You look like you’re feeling better.” The young-faced man smiled kindly at her. The blonde found herself smiling back sincerely despite the tension that still lingered.

“I am, oppa, thank you.”

“That’s good to hear.” Noticing the food sitting in front of the two younger women, Insoo continued, “It’s also good that you’re eating. I woke up to pick some food up for you and Chorong,” Insoo motioned to the wallet in his hands. “You beat me to it, though. I’ll still make sure to get something for when Chorong wakes up.”

“This is all thanks to Byulyi,” Yongsun grabbed onto the brunette’s upper arm. “She bought it for me. Oh, by the way, this is Byulyi,” she belatedly added.

“Nice to meet you, Byulyi-ssi. I’m Insoo. Chorong’s boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you,” the younger woman dipped her head respectfully.

“Oppa, how did I get home last night?”

“Your other friends . . . Hyejin and Wheein? Ah, yes, Hyejin and Wheein, I dropped them to their dorm, and then I somehow managed to get both you and Chorong into your rooms. The two of you are a handful when drunk, by the way.”

“Sorry,” Yongsun shyly apologized. She didn’t even want to know what she and her roommate put the poor man through.

“It’s okay. It was your birthday celebration. You’re supposed to let loose.”

“You were letting loose?” Byulyi suddenly asked, her voice more playful than moments before.

“Be quiet,” Yongsun softly pushed the younger’s face away.

“Not in a reckless way. It was an appropriate amount of looseness,” Insoo attempted to come to her rescue. Bless his heart. “I should get going, though, she may wake up at any moment.”

“Bye, oppa.”

“Thank you for watching over her,” Byulyi added before the older man exited the apartment.

“You’re welcome. It was no problem.”

Waiting for enough time to pass after he left, Moonbyul turned to Yongsun with a curious arch to her eyebrows. “Are we not going to discuss his outfit?” While he was slim, Insoo was significantly taller than Chorong. As such, the oversized sweatshirt he fished from the other woman’s drawers didn’t look too out of place. The sweatpants that didn’t even meet his shins, though . . . that was another story.

“Leave him alone. He was clearly running low on options.”

“Seems like a nice guy.”

“Very. **Very** very.”

“I’m confused. How did he end up with Chorong then?”

“Shut up,” Yongsun pushed her. “And keep your voice down. She’s a fan of yours now.”

“Be serious.”

“I am! I was surprised when she told me, too.” The details of what prompted that sudden shift in attitude would stay between the roommates. “As long as you don’t hurt me, she said. If you do, she’ll go back to hating you.”

“And here I am pissing you off on your birthday. Off to a terrible start.”

“You weren’t pissing me off,” Yongsun laid her head on Byulyi’s defined shoulder.

“Pissing you off, stressing you out, same thing. It’s not allowed on your birthday.”

“Ah, so the moment the clock strikes 12:00 am, it’ll be okay to piss me off and stress me out again?”

“See? You’re a smart one. You pick up on things quickly.”

“Idiot.”

Focused once again on their food, Yongsun and Byulyi ate in a more comfortable silence than earlier.

“I still have to give you your gifts,” the younger woman announced as she consolidated the empty dishes on the table.

“Plural?”

“I can get rid of some if you’d like.”

“Look at Moon Byulyi bragging!”

“Be quiet,” the senior good-naturedly rolled her eyes. “Just go to your room. I’ll clean this stuff up.”

“Okay!”

She didn’t need to be told twice.

*

With the change in scenery came a change in the energy between Yongsun and Byulyi. The stilted conversation from earlier wasn’t forgotten—the weight and impact of their words, spoken and unspoken, held far too much significance for that—but, locked in Yongsun’s bedroom, the pair was in better spirits.

On her bed bouncing on her knees, the blonde eagerly anticipated what was to come.

“Since when are you this excited for gifts?” Byulyi carefully balanced a large gift bag in her hand while stealthily climbing atop the bed. Where Yongsun now sat more calmly with her back against the bed’s headboard, Moonbyul sat further down, back resting against the adjacent wall with her legs outstretched.

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I’m excited to see what you thought up. No pressure, of course.”

“Of course,” the younger parroted sarcastically. “Okay, here’s the first part.” Ruffling through the bag for longer than expected, she pulled out a simple black jewelry box and handed it to Yongsun with a bashful smile. This shy side of the athlete **really** struck something in Yongsun because her heart rate spiked momentarily before returning to normal.

Given Byulyi’s sincerity and obvious nerves, it didn’t feel right to say anything sarcastic. Yongsun instead chose to open the box in silence, her breath hitching once the container’s contents were in full view. The bracelet was beautiful in its simplicity. It was similar to the silver ID bracelet Yongsun purchased for Moonbyul months ago, except this one was gold, not silver.

_The brightest sun._

Over and over, she ran her fingertips along the words etched into the golden plate.

The brightest sun. That’s what Byulyi thought of her. Even now, as Yongsun impeded their progress as a couple, Moonbyul still thought this highly of her.

Without a second thought, the graduate student placed the cover on the box before resting it next to her pillow and crawling to the end of the bed. Climbing onto Byulyi, Yongsun straddled the athlete’s thighs. Taking in the balled fists at Byulyi’s sides and the quickened rise and fall of the younger woman’s chest, Yongsun slowly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against a flushed cheek. “Thank you,” she mumbled against the athlete’s face.

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t tell if you liked it or not,” she chuckled shakily.

“I love it.”

“Now we can have matching bracelets.”

“We already have some. The ones you bought in Japan last summer.”

“Oh. I forgot about those. Well. Now we have more.”

“Nothing better to do with your money, huh?”

Brown eyes searing into brown eyes, Moonbyul answered seriously. “Couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than on you.”

“You don’t have to do that, y‘know.”

“I know. I want to.”

“Here she goes with the sweet words,” Yongsun tried to diffuse the heat building between them.

“I’m trying to build a good case for myself,” the other smirked.

“You’re doing well.” Still straddling Byulyi, Yongsun sat upright, removing the towel atop her head that began to loosen and tossing it across the room onto her chair. “Don’t say anything. I’ll move it later. Okay, what’s next?”

Moonbyul reached for her phone, doing some scrolling and tapping before shyly clutching the device against her chest.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

Grabbing at the much-stronger arm keeping her from this “gift”, Yongsun continued her losing battle until the athlete relented and showed the screen. “What is this?”

“Part of your gift. I really don’t know why I decided to do this,” she mumbled the last part, shaking her head as she spoke. “It was a trend on social media, so I just did it because I thought it would be cute, but in hindsight, it wasn’t a good idea. **Don’t **laugh.”

Saying nothing else, Yongsun watched as Byulyi pressed play and Natalie Taylor’s “Surrender” started up. For a full minute, the blonde sat still as picture after picture after video appeared one after the other. Snapshots of their last 1.5 years together were documented, put on display—days and nights out eating, days and nights in lazing about, Yongsun doing homework while Byulyi distracted her, Halloween, even their facemask selfies from a couple of weeks ago were included.

As tears welled in her eyes, the blonde froze, remembering Byul’s odd reaction to her “stalker” joke earlier. It all made sense now. Suddenly, her only concern was atoning for making her best friend feel self-conscious about such a thoughtful and heartfelt gift.

Cupping the other woman’s cheeks, Yongsun leaned in and rested her forehead against Byulyi’s, eyes closed. So they stayed for what felt like minutes until she opened her eyes and felt the weight of unshed tears building along her bottom lids. Blinking the liquid away, she whispered, “I love it. Thank you.” Releasing Moonbyul’s face, Yongsun wrapped her arms around the other’s exposed neck and tucked her face into the nook between neck and shoulder. “I really love it.”

“I put it on a CD for you so you can have it to play whenever you want,” the younger quietly explained further.

Racking her brain for what else to say, the birthday girl came up blank. It was obvious her best friend put a tremendous amount of thought and effort into these gifts. It showed. Under the weight of that affection, though, Yongsun felt inadequate. What was one expected to do or say in such a situation? Words would never convey just how appreciative she was.

Running her left hand through the loose brown locks at the athlete’s back, Yongsun pressed what she hoped was a kiss that communicated her feelings at the base of Byulyi’s neck. The senior, who hadn’t yet to say much else, simply wrapped her arms around Yongsun’s waist, holding the birthday girl tight against her.

An eternity later, Yongsun felt Byul’s deep voice vibrate against her forehead as she spoke up. “There’s one last part of your gift.” Missing the feeling of one of the arms pressed against her, she heard rustling coming from their left before Byulyi instructed her to sit up. “Here.”

Sheet masks.

“In honor of Skincare Sunday. Because it’s . . . Sunday.”

It didn’t even take a second. Yongsun held onto Byulyi’s face and captured both lips between her own. Responding belatedly, she felt her best friend finally react, clutching at her hips and sucking on her bottom lip. Hoping her actions expressed the feelings not-so-hidden within, Yongsun matched Byulyi’s movements, alternating between nipping at her lower lip and sucking on her even plumper top lip before taking the athlete’s tongue into her mouth and caressing that, too, with her own tongue.

Satisfied with this level of physicality, the two didn’t push further for minutes until long, slender fingers suddenly gripped and squeezed her ass. Yongsun let out a sudden yelp that echoed into Byulyi’s mouth before pulling away and taking in the sight before her. Swollen lips, ragged breathing, and hooded eyes trained on her lips told Yongsun exactly what Byulyi wanted. The younger woman wouldn’t say it, but the hand still massaging Yongsun’s backside, and the other clutching at her tank top said enough.

Byulyi wanted more.

Unlike their discussions about a relationship, this was a more that Yongsun wanted, too. She couldn’t right now give Byulyi the labels she sought, but she could give this, could **do** this. It wasn’t a matter of giving herself to make up for them not officially being girlfriends, nor was Yongsun using this as a feeble attempt at thanking Byulyi for the sentimental birthday presents, she was doing this because she **wanted** to. She **wanted** Byulyi as much as it became increasingly clear that Byulyi wanted her.

_“People have sex all the time. It just happens.”_

_“My Yongie is a virgin. . . . Well, don’t worry about it. Your time will come and it’ll happen on your terms. You’ll be fine.”_

_“Do you really not think about doing things with her? . . . For yourself, if you want to do something, just do it. Remember how great that was for you over the summer? You got out of your head and just had fun. Loosen up a little and see what happens.”_

_“That girl is **so** whipped. I’ve never seen her like this.”_

_“She **really** likes you, Yongie.”_

_“. . . if you’re serious about eventually being in a relationship with her, the two of you are gonna have sex, Yong. Like, it’s gonna happen. Unless you end things with her and go fuck someone else, **she’s** gonna be the one you have your first time with.”_

As she and Byulyi continued their staredown, both attempting to catch their breaths, the words of encouragement and reassurance from friends over the past half a year flooded Yongsun’s mind.

Byulyi’s feelings for her were evident to everyone that witnessed their interactions. And although Yongsun couldn’t jump into the labels of a relationship today, she wanted one **with Byulyi**. She wanted to be **with Byulyi**. And the decision to do what she was deciding to do wasn’t fueled by indecent thoughts or lust or alcohol. No, instead, she was taken by Byulyi, how good of a woman she was, how considerate and thoughtful and sweet the younger woman was, even in the face of what was likely her most infuriating relationship to date.

Making the most of the last moments before things surely devolved into hormone-fueled chaos, Yongsun leaned in to give her best friend three kisses—one to the tattooed skin on the left side of her neck, one to her nose, and the last to her slightly parted lips.

It was impossible for Yongsun to feel any more supported and loved—those words hadn’t been spoken aloud, but she imagined things between them had to have some level of that involved, no matter how minuscule. Conditions in which her spontaneity and confidence felt comfortable enough to make a cameo.

Feeling eyes boring into her face, Yongsun met them with her own. Slowly, and trying to control her breath, she pulled her top from over her head, self-consciously holding the fabric in her hands as she sat atop Byulyi bare-chested. She saw it all, the bob of the athlete’s throat, her chest heaving up and down, Byulyi’s internal conflict to keep her eyes from dipping below Yongsun’s chin. Then came a desperate plea, the first words spoken in at least 10 minutes.

“Yongsun. Please. I’m trying to hold it together.”

“You don’t have to.”

Roughly scrubbing her face, the younger of the two released a defeated sigh. “Yong. . .”

“Byul-ah,” Yongsun whispered.

Who knows what it was about her speaking the other’s name that way, but the eyes that once met hers darted to her chest and didn’t leave their new targets.

“Fuck.”

The longer Byulyi stared at her breasts, the quicker Yongsun’s reserve of confidence dried up, self-consciousness and awkwardness filling the void. Desperately needing Byulyi to take over and do something, she let out a moan of satisfaction and relief when a jolt of pain shot through her body from the athlete pinching one of her now-hardened nipples.

“Fuck.”

Pulled into a heated kiss by strong hands, Yongsun gave in and let her desires rule her actions. It was comforting that this is where Byulyi started and that this was where she kept them for moments more, allowing them both to settle in. Once comfortable, it was Yongsun who threw fuel onto the fire, easing her back against the mattress and pulling Moonbyul on top of her.

Their lips never separated, their rhythm was uninterrupted.

Eventually, Byulyi pulled away, searching Yongsun’s eyes for honesty at her next question. “Are you sure? We **really** don’t have to do this right now.”

Impatiently, Yongsun forcefully pulled her face back down, joining their lips once more and enjoying the friction that their new position offered. With Byulyi on top of her, one of the younger woman’s thighs was positioned between her legs, brushing teasingly against her most sensitive area. While the athlete sucked on her neck, Yongsun rocked her hips back and forth, enjoying the arousal building in her lower abdomen.

Seemingly encouraged by this, Byulyi bore most of her weight on her left forearm and let her right hand roam alongside Yongsun’s side, a scenario similar in many ways to a week ago, yet **so **different—this time it tickled and sent more of a thrill rippling through her body. The kisses were sloppier, hastily pressed against her jaw and neck and she appreciated that. She enjoyed the competing sensations of lips on her neck and fingers palming her breast and did her best to let Byulyi know that through incoherent stammering.

Her entire bit was likely too over-the-top for some kissing and breast grabbing, but everything truly felt that good. Every new step they took, Byulyi took her time before pushing things further at exactly the right moment. Just as Yongsun began hoping Byulyi would go further, the athlete started leaving a trail of wet kisses down her chest before she felt lips latching onto her left nipple. Firmly sucking, gently biting, carelessly licking. It went on for some time, Byulyi shifting her body weight and hungrily switching to the other breast before suddenly returning to attack Yongsun’s neck. It all felt too good being taken care of like this, reaching a point where the graduate student stopped paying attention to what was happening and just let herself **feel**. Eyes fluttered closed, she was reduced to a whimpering mess as Byulyi did as she pleased.

While her mouth sucked and licked at Yongsun’s neck, Byul’s hand trailed south, coming to a stop between Yongsun’s legs. As she shifted her position to make things easier, Yongsun whined in protest at the loss of the defined thigh she’d been rubbing herself against.

“That feels so good,” she moaned as fingers rubbed her through her shorts seconds later.

“Yeah? This is okay?” Byulyi’s hoarse voice rasped into her ear. Nodding her head, Yongsun opened her legs further, taking in a sharp gust of air as she felt a tongue caressing the shell of her ear. “Give me a kiss,” the athlete demanded. Turning her head, Yongsun complied, not expecting the force with which her best friend attacked her mouth, but not upset at it either. It was a source of pride being able to send Byulyi into such a frenzied state. “You’re so sexy,” the younger woman spoke against her lips. “I swear on everything, you’re so fucking sexy. I want you so fucking badly, Yong.”

Closing her eyes, she reveled in those words. The whispered declarations of desire made Yongsun hornier, her hip gyrations becoming more erratic until Byulyi’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts and underwear.

“Is this okay?” The younger woman whispered hoarsely.

“Mmhmm.”

“How about now?” She asked as Yongsun felt Byulyi fingers begin rubbing her clit at a torturously slow pace. It was purposeful.

“Byul-ah,” the graduate student whined.

The resulting laughter pissed Yongsun off, but she couldn’t stay upset when Byulyi crashed her lips to hers while picking up the pace at which her fingers played with her. “Better?” She pulled her lips away to ask. As she did so, though, Yongsun watched with rapt attention as the athlete brought the fingers that were between her legs to her mouth, quickly licking them before reinserting them into Yongsun’s underwear and resuming her rubs and flicks.

She didn’t care how embarrassing it may have been, Yongsun closed her eyes and let her hips squirm as they pleased. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she ignored the eyes she felt boring into the side of her face and enjoyed the pressure mounting at the pit of her stomach.

The catalyst for it all disappeared abruptly, though, forcing her eyes open.

“Shhh,” Byulyi hushed her, likely aware of the verbal assault that was on the tip of Yongsun’s lips. Giving Yongsun one last kiss, the younger woman crawled to the end of the bed and came to kneel between the blonde’s legs. “Take this off,” she instructed, fingers already easing Yongsun shorts and underwear off.

No longer pumping from intense arousal, her heart now began beating from nervousness. Yongsun couldn’t identify what made what was to come so drastically different from what had transpired thus far, but her stomach dropped nonetheless. Screwing her eyes shut, she bridged her hips, allowing Byulyi to remove the remaining garments and wished for the best.

However, seconds passed with no movement from Byulyi. Yongsun opened one eye enough to see the athlete just staring at her exposed privates. Likely jostled by the curious gaze trained on her, the younger woman looked up and caught the one eye peeking at her. Climbing on top of Yongsun, she came to leave sweet kisses along the graduate student’s lips.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

There no traces of judgment or agitation on Byulyi’s face, making Yongsun more comfortable about telling the truth. “I’m nervous.”

“Because it’s our first time?” As she asked, the muscular woman focused on Yongsun’s neck, sucking gently along the expanse of skin there.

“Because it’s **my** first time.” If there ever were a time for Byulyi to read between the lines, it was now.

She did not.

“With a woman?” Her head came into view as she propped herself up on her side, head tilted with her features fixed in curiosity.

Logically, Yongsun knew there wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about, but the words still dried in her throat a few times before she could finally utter them. “With anyone.”

“Hmm?” Byulyi heard her—there was next to no distance between them when Yongsun spoke—so the sigh she let out at being made to repeat herself was drenched in irritation and humiliation.

“I said it’s my first time with anyone.”

“With anyone,” the younger woman repeated carefully. “It’s your first time? Like . . . with anyone? **Anyone** anyone?”

“Seriously, Byulyi. You heard me,” Yongsun hastily untucked her comforter, looking for an escape from being splayed out completely naked while explaining this.

“I did, I’m just . . . surprised? That’s . . . not what I expected. I’m trying to understand.”

“What is there to understand? It’s pretty straightforward,” Yongsun spat.

“Yes, I get that. But that’s a lot to process so suddenly.”

“Whatever.”

“Please don’t be upset.”

“I’m not,” Yongsun responded tersely.

Despite her words, she wrapped herself beneath the covers and gave Byulyi her back, at a complete loss over how to salvage the remainder of the afternoon before concluding that there wasn’t much to be done on that front—the mood was ruined.

She was over it. Tears once again welled in her eyes, this time for a drastically different reason than half an hour ago. While her fears of being too inexperienced returned with a vengeance, engulfing any vestiges of optimism and confidence, Yongsun stayed silent, refusing to utter another word. Byulyi said nothing either. Both were forced by their circumstances to sit in a silence that delighted in crashing the celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you gotta send a risky text then put your phone on do not disturb and meditate. This update is my risky text. I’m meditating.
> 
> These [M] chapters TRIP me up, as you can tell by the delays two weeks in a row. If there’s a fic writer you know of that writes sexual scenes very well, please take a few moments this week to show them extra love and support because it is hard. Bless their hearts for doing it.
> 
> Went way back for some of the “words of encouragement and reassurance”. It’s pretty wild seeing how some things from almost 20 chapters ago are still relevant now.
> 
> Next update will be significantly shorter. Emphasis on significantly shorter.


	47. The Talk, Pt. 1: (Un)Lucky #7

It was almost laughable how funny life was sometimes. Never passing up an opportunity to humble those that got too ahead of themselves.

Ups and downs. That’s all life was. Love, fun, happiness, death, taxes, whatever — it all boiled down to ups and downs. A simple concept. The challenge, though, came in anticipating when each would strike. It was impossible to predict. Even more impossible was accurately assessing how up an up was and, likewise, how down a down was. The worst were downs disguised as ups. And **boy** did Byulyi find herself in one hell of a down disguised as an up.

The absurdity of the situation dumped on her was **laughable**. It was a skill, the athlete thought, to constantly wind up in positions that were more believably part of a stand-up comic’s set of jokes than reality.

_A young woman has a crush on her best friend for over a year. She’s pining, pining, pining in silence until one day she works up enough courage to confess. To her surprise, her best friend confesses back! They decide to be friends with benefits even though there are no benefits. Also — an important point — the young woman hasn’t had sex in almost 9 months. That’s **important** because, on her best friend’s birthday, the other woman initiates sexy times **out of nowhere**. This is the life, right? Knocking out two birds with one stone: have sex for the first time in almost a year **and** have sex with her best friend. They’re kissing, they’re touching, her friend’s getting naked. They’re setting the mood. This is **it**. It’s what she’s been hoping for. She’s foaming at the mouth, imagining every which way to fuck her friend. It’s **the **moment._

_Then her friend confesses that she’s a virgin! Just like that!_

An audience would laugh at that, right? It was absurd enough to inspire a loud chorus of laughter. Because that’s what this situation deserved. Laughter. To stave off the crippling despair numbing Byulyi’s every sense.

Cold showers were not foreign to her — the world of youth club basketball came with its fair share of subpar locker rooms, including showers with no hot water. The news Yongsun dropped on her minutes ago, though, sent stronger shockwaves rippling through every fiber of her being than any of the cold showers she’d experienced. Some of the effects were the same: momentary paralysis, dread, the biting back of expletives for fear of others hearing. However, what set the bucket of frigid water metaphorically dumped on her just now apart from her cold showers of the past was the time to prepare.

The first victim on her youth teams subjected to the sudden shift in water would trudge out and mumble through shivers an irritated “the hot water’s done.” Everyone else lucky enough to have avoided such a cruel fate would then use the time to mentally prepare their plan of attack. Some would use their hands to carefully collect drops of water from the showerhead, pressing the liquid to their skin limb by limb before lathering up and collecting droplets in their palms once again to rinse off. The more daring chose to bite the proverbial bullet, dousing themselves in the stream of icicles and getting their shower over with as quickly as possible. The remaining would bear their dried sweat and stale stench until they could shower in the privacy of their shared hotel or dorm rooms.

With her back against the headboard of Yongsun’s bed, Byulyi stared off despondently, lamenting both the lack of time to prepare **and **the lack of a game plan for acknowledging Yongsun’s news. Mind moving miles per second, her lips were rendered ineffective, clamped shut by the announcement that, even though uttered at least 10 minutes ago, was still fresh and shocking.

_“I said it’s my first time with anyone.”_

_“With anyone? It’s your first time? Like . . . with anyone? **Anyone** anyone?”_

_“Seriously, Byulyi. You heard me.”_

_“I did, I’m just . . . surprised? That’s . . . not what I expected. I’m trying to understand.”_

_“What is there to understand? It’s pretty straightforward.”_

_“Yes, I get that. But that’s a lot to process so suddenly.”_

_“Whatever.”_

_“Please don’t be upset.”_

_“I’m not.”_

She was.

Yongsun lay within arm’s reach to Byulyi’s right, but as a stone-still silence permeated the room, and with Yongsun’s back to her, Byulyi knew her chance to fix things was dwindling. The longer they remained in silence, the wider the chasm between them would grow.

And still, she could not open her mouth.

With all her might, the young woman pleaded with any deity listening to place on the tip of her tongue the words that would make this better.

None came. They must all have been busy.

Left to her own devices, Byulyi brainstormed how to best handle her massive fuck up. Because at this point, **fixing** it was impossible. The best she could hope for was a waterproof band-aid that would withstand her stress-sweat and, judging by the sound of things, Yongsun’s tears.

What was there to say?

Yongsun was a virgin. That in itself felt blasphemous to even **think**. It made no sense.

For some people, repeating a word or phrase over and over results in those very words sounding awkward.

No repetition was needed in this case. ‘Yongsun is a virgin’ tasted sour from the get-go.

Yes, for the duration of the time they knew each other, the graduate student had stressed her lack of experience, but Byulyi thought Yongsun meant **relationship **experience, not **sexual** experience. She’d figured there was **someone** throughout her 25 years of life that things would have escalated with. And if not, Yongsun had two relationships during her time at SNU. Jinyoung was Yongsun’s first official partner, her first **relationship**. As boring as Byulyi found the man to be, it was no secret he liked Yongsun a fair bit. Their relationship, however, never seemed to be enough of a two-way street as would be needed for anything close to sex to happen. Byulyi operated under the impression, then, that even though it wouldn’t be farfetched to imagine something happening between Yongsun and Jinyoung, it wasn’t very likely.

Now, Seungyeon. That was another story. Another book entirely.

The way she popped up out of nowhere was annoying, the way Yongsun never gave additional details on what went on with Seungyeon was shady, and the way Seungyeon had **clearly** been hung up on Yongsun left only one logical conclusion — they were having sex. Very good sex. **Very**, very good sex. That was the only reason for someone to make as much of a show on social media as Seungyeon **always** did after she and Yongsun “hung out”.

Did Byulyi happen upon the other woman’s Instagram and Twitter pages now and then? Yes. And the dates always added up. If Yongsun and Seungyeon hung out, there would be **something** documenting that. A photo, a tweet, an @, something. That girl was not slick. Yongsun clearly fell for her antics because her go-to justification if anyone brought it up — usually Wheein or Hyejin — was always, “She has all her friends on her social media accounts.” But Byulyi knew better. She picked up on the crumbs Seungyeon intentionally dropped. It was annoying. **Seungyeon** was annoying.

Soft sniffles coming from the woman beside her reminded Byulyi of what was most important now. Pushing aside the remnants of bitterness towards Seungyeon that remained, Byulyi focused on the reason Seungyeon came to mind in the first place: if asked to do so, the senior would have bet money on the fact that Yongsun and Seungyeon had sex. That’s how certain she was. This entire time, the thought rubbed her the wrong way, enough so that Byulyi tried to stealthily bring it up to Heeyeon a couple of weeks ago.

_“Yongsun’s hanging out with Seungyeon tonight,” Byulyi mentioned unprompted. _

_She and Heeyeon coordinated their busy schedules, ensuring they could share this late dinner tonight. When originally making these plans, Byulyi didn’t expect to be in the middle of a cold war with Yongsun. The evening before, she and the older woman were having a lot of fun laughing at their own stupidity when a text message from Seungyeon interrupted and derailed the good mood. That dark cloud rolled over into today, making any communication with Yongsun unpleasant, and turning Byulyi into an unbearable sourpuss._

_‘Going out tonight so I’ll be back late.’ That was one of the messages Yongsun sent her earlier. The only ‘friend’ Yongsun never mentioned was Seungyeon. She’d even mention **Chorong** by name if the two were hanging out, so Byulyi quickly learned to read between the lines. Any time the graduate student purposely didn’t mention someone by name, it meant she was going out with Seungyeon. _

_“Okay,” her roommate responded, fully unenthused and uninterested as she picked at the food in her bowl._

_“Yeah,” the athlete drawled, spinning all wheels for a way to get Heeyeon to indulge her. Her friend had become more adamant recently about Byulyi keeping any issues with Yongsun between her and Yongsun. “Wonder what they’re up to,” she skittishly chanced glances at the woman beside her._

_“Only they would know. You could always message Yongsun-unnie to find out.”_

_“I don’t know. Yongsun never talks about what they do.”_

_“Do you ever ask?”_

_“Why would I?”_

_“Okay, then why would she tell you?”_

_“Whatever.”_

_Sighing, Heeyeon softened some. “Stop coming up with scenarios in your head that are probably not happening.”_

_“But what if they **are** happening?”_

_“Then you need to come to terms with the fact that Yongsun-unnie’s a grown woman that’s lived a life before you.”_

All that anger and jealousy for what? Wasting all that time and energy fretting over what Yongsun and Seungyeon were doing **for what?** That same night she looked to Heeyeon for reassurance, Yongsun was ending things with Seungyeon. And the “very, very good sex” she assumed the two were having was a figment of her imagination. A mirage. But still potent enough in its nonexistence to challenge, tickle, and wound Byulyi’s ego. If the young woman were honest with herself, that had been a strong driving force behind a lot of the irritation at the Seungyeon situation. Yongsun, she thought, was doing things with the other woman that she wasn’t doing with Byulyi, the person she claimed to trust the most and feel most at ease with.

For the life of her, the basketball star couldn’t understand the disconnect between Yongsun’s words and her assumed actions. Until moments ago when Yongsun’s actions confirmed that she did, in fact, trust Byulyi with **a lot**. Trusted her enough to vulnerably admit, even in the face of audible nerves, that this was her first time. In return, Byulyi put her through a truncated inquisition, making Yongsun repeat and explain herself.

It was sick.

Embarrassing and shameful on Byulyi’s part, really. A breach of the faith Yongsun placed in her. There was a look in the older woman’s eyes when she shared her secret, a look that spoke volumes about how nervous announcing her virginity made her. A look that Byulyi only caught by chance because she was too wrapped up in salivating over having Yongsun laid bare before her, teeming with lust and horniness at Yongsun being **shaved** and **wet**, bursting at the seams to fuck Kim Yongsun. Byulyi gnawed at her bottom lip as the shame gnawed at her from within.

Possibly a byproduct of her drought, maybe excitement from finally being in that position with her best friend, the eagerness with which Byulyi was ready to have sex with Yongsun made her dizzy. Only after moments of admiring the view before her did the odd, prolonged silence hit her. **That** is what made her look up at the last second to catch one of Yongsun’s eyes screwed shut while the other nervously followed Byulyi’s every move. **That** is what belatedly motivated her to ask if Yongsun was okay, and **that** is what opened the door for the bomb Yongsun eventually dropped.

Byulyi felt gross.

She was supposed to be better than that. Especially with Yongsun. The realization singed the words in her throat desperately attempting to be vocalized—she was sorry. Whether Yongsun was a virgin or not, it was going to be **their **first time having sex. Such a moment was supposed to be special, not whatever hormone-driven shit Byulyi was about to do. More embarrassment and shame overwhelmed her.

Meanwhile, the athlete had yet to say or do **anything** to comfort and reassure Yongsun that things were okay. That was her **only** job in the aftermath of this mess and she’d failed at it thus far. The only thing offering an inkling of hope was the fact that Yongsun hadn’t yet told her to leave. Was she also too stunned to say anything? Did she actually prefer having Byulyi around, even right now? Whatever the reason, Moonbyul was grateful. The hope was fleeting, but it was there. It’s what eventually stirred the younger woman from her thoughts and urged her to climb underneath the comforter. Gingerly, she slipped an arm around Yongsun’s bare waist, pulling the older’s naked back against her chest. Yongsun didn’t fight the egregiously delayed action, but she remained silent, leaving the burden of communication on Byulyi’s shoulders, once again begging the question — what was she supposed to say?

For all the thinking she’d spent the past 10 minutes doing, the athlete’s well of inspiration ran as dry as her mouth was.

“I’m sorry.” The words were only barely louder than the echoes of her heart ramming against her chest. Apologizing wasn’t what caused the erratic beating, realizing that Yongsun could choose to not accept her contrition caused it. The prospect of facing yet **another** setback caused it.

Using the left arm around Yongsun’s waist to sweep the older woman’s hair to the side, Byulyi craned her neck enough to timidly press her lips against the blonde’s exposed neck. “I’m so sorry, Yong.” The whispered words were met with a nerve-racking stretch of silence. Heaving a heavy sigh, she hugged Yongsun closer to her chest, the physical closeness mostly to help steel herself for the emotional waters she and Yongsun needed to tread. “Can we talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?” The words were hard, sending Byulyi’s mind into overdrive. The woman in her arms was **upset**. Quickly scanning their friendship’s timeline, Byulyi sought other instances in which a similar level of anger existed and mentally patted herself on the back for remembering that Yongsun was only ever this understated, deadly type of angry when something had seriously hurt her. Then Byulyi immediately stopped mentally patting herself on the back because it fully dawned on her that Yongsun was hurt.

Fuck.

“Um, there’s a lot to talk about. We could start by addressing what happened... Maybe?... If you want?” She knew that they **needed** to discuss it, but something about Yongsun’s tone scared Byulyi, made her second-guess and triple-check everything she knew and said.

“Byulyi, please. Just leave it alone.”

“Yong, we should talk about it.”

“**What** is there to say? I said what I said, you shut down. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Byulyi tried to speak firmly. If she let Yongsun dictate things, this fiasco would be buried along with all the other uncomfortable conversations they’d stashed away. This seemed to be **the** time to remember all of their past partners because Byulyi wistfully remembered Haena and how well she initiated and navigated conversations about their relationship. Expectations and concerns. The older woman never hesitated to speak candidly about those. Byulyi remembered how cool she found Haena for that. She was so good at communicating, making Byulyi want to be better, herself. For the duration of the relationship, though, Byulyi never had to flex those muscles too much as Haena always took the lead. It seemed the opportunity to step into that leadership position was suddenly presenting itself. “Not . . . you being a virgin. That part’s fine. It is,” she stammered. “I meant the me shutting down part. That’s . . . not fine. I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“And I’ll say it a million more times because I am **really** sorry.”

“Whatever. It’s in the past.”

“It won’t stay there unless we discuss it properly. Can we please?”

The seconds dripped by like molasses, but Yongsun eventually turned onto her other side, facing Byulyi and leveling her with a questioning gaze. It was intimidating, as most things were when Yongsun got like this, but the athlete’s attention traitorously shifted to the breasts pressing against her chest.

Yongsun was still very naked, and Byulyi was still a child that couldn’t focus.

“Um . . . before we say anything else, do you want me to get your clothes for you? I want you to feel comfortable.” She didn’t wait for confirmation before hopping off the bed and retrieving Yongsun’s articles of clothing that were thrown about earlier. “Here you go,” she offered the clothes to the graduate student, throwing in a small smile after Yongsun rolled her eyes and sighed deeply.

Once the older woman was clothed and both sat across from each other on the bed — Yongsun with her arms crossed —, Byulyi started. “Okay . . . so . . . yeah . . . you’re a virgin.” The more she spoke, the more she wanted to choke herself. How did people willingly enter conversations like this **all the time**? It was unnerving.

“Okay. I think we’re done here.”

“No, no! Let’s talk about it.”

“I don’t fucking want to talk about it, Byulyi. It’s embarrassing! Is that what you wanted to hear? This entire thing is embarrassing, and I’d prefer not to go through a play-by-play.”

The outburst stunned her into another bout of silence before falling back onto her go-to phrase. “I’m sorry.” Reaching across to hold Yongsun’s chin between her thumb and index finger, she looked into the eyes trying to avoid hers and poured all possible sincerity into her next words. “I’m **sorry**, Yong. My reaction was not about you. Well, not fully. I was surprised by the news. That’s all. We’d never discussed it, and I assumed that you had done . . . **that** before, so when you said you hadn’t, it was like . . . oh!”

“Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever. Look,” Byulyi sighed and dropped her hand from Yongsun’s face, “this is new for me, okay?”

“What? Being with someone that’s never had sex?”

“No. Yes! That . . . is new, but I meant talking about this stuff. I’ve never been in a relationship like this before.”

“A relationship like what?” Yongsun was being so **defensive**, ready to bark and bite at a moment’s notice.

“A relationship like **this**, where we talk about sex and stuff. So I apologize, again, for not taking or making the time to do that with you.” Even with Haena, a discussion about sex never happened. They just . . . had sex, Byulyi keeping a mental list of things the older woman responded positively to as they went. “I care a lot about you, Yongsun. I care about this thing that we’re trying to figure out. But I can’t give you what you need if I don’t know what that is.” Yongsun’s mouth opened with a quickness, likely ready to rip into Byulyi, prompting the athlete to quickly raise her hands and hurriedly add, “And vice versa! I need to communicate that, too! I could tell you were ready to jump on me.”

“I was,” Yongsun rolled her eyes, arms still crossed. It wasn’t the same ‘fuck you, stop talking to me’ eye-roll from before, though. No, this one was the much milder ‘you’re so annoying’ eye-roll that Yongsun used when Byulyi did or said stupid shit Yongsun found cute. Using that to her advantage, the athlete leaned into her overbearing playfulness schtick.

“Oh! Is that a smile?” There was no smile. “I think I saw a smile! Let me see?” Moving closer to Yongsun’s face, she continued, “is that a–, a smile?”

“Stop,” Yongsun whined, mushing Byulyi’s face away. “Everything’s a joke to you.” There was genuine annoyance in her tone, but it was a manageable, much less lethal than Yongsun’s earlier frustration.

“It’s not a joke to me, I just don’t know how to fix this. It’s awkward and I feel like shit that things went as poorly as they did.”

“Mmm.”

The words of honesty softened Yongsun’s gaze on her, encouraging Byulyi to continue.

“I’m so, so, so sorry. The shock and pressure got to me. I made things about me when they should’ve been about you. I’m really sorry.”

“Pressure? What pressure could possibly be on you? You’ve had sex,” her voice lowered at that word; it was kind of cute, “plenty of times, I’m sure.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s slow down. Not **that** many times. And yes, there’s pressure. Even if I weren’t your first, there’d be pressure to make sure things were good for you and to make sure you got to where you needed to get. Now that I know I’ll be your first time, I **definitely** have to make sure everything is special.”

“Oh my goodness, I don’t need a parade, Byulyi,” Yongsun flopped back onto her pillow.

“Okay. I’ll cancel the parade. No problem,” she joked, laying her body atop Yongsun’s and tucking her head between the older woman’s neck and shoulder. “It still needs to be special for you and I have to make sure that happens. Whatever messy shit I was going to do today would not have been that.”

They lay there for several beats, Byulyi leaving tender kisses to Yongsun’s neck every now and then.

“How many people have you been with?” Yongsun whispered.

“Today is about you, not me.”

“I told you how many people I’ve been with. Isn’t it fair that you tell me how many you’ve been with?”

“You told me in the middle of us about to have sex, so I’ll save my number for the next time things heat up between us.”

“12?”

“Huh?”

“12 people? That you’ve had sex with?”

“What the fuck?” Byulyi laughed, lifting her head to look at Yongsun head-on.

“15?”

“Stop going higher! When would I have found time to have sex with 15 people?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“6. Only 6.” Goeun was the first. There was a girl at her junior college that Byulyi saw steadily after she and Goeun broke up. She was a little wild when arriving at SNU the following year—there were the soccer girls during the summer, and a senior she saw on and off throughout the year. Last year was Haena. The only “real” relationships were with Goeun and Haena.

“**Only** 6,” Yongsun scoffed.

Sensing the regression in Yongsun’s voice, Byulyi realized she probably shouldn’t have shared her actual number. “It doesn’t even matter, Yong. It’s different with each person. The most important thing is learning what your partner likes. That’s it. And we’ll figure that out **together**. Okay?” The subsequent head nod was shaky, but it was better than nothing. “Can I have a kiss, please?”

“No,” Yongsun turned her head away.

“Please?” A small smirk on her face, Yongsun gave another ‘you’re annoying’ roll of the eyes before obliging and letting Byulyi in for a chaste kiss. “I’m seriously so sorry, Yong.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

“Okay,” the blonde whispered.

The remaining hours of Yongsun’s birthday were spent napping, eating, and watching movies of the birthday girl’s choice. Although things between them became infinitely more pleasant, Byulyi wasn’t naïve. The root causes of their conflict earlier were nowhere near being fully resolved. Acknowledging that didn’t even rattle her anymore. It had been their normal for far too long — proud of themselves for blowing out candles while ignoring the more significant fires around them that threatened to damage all the good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In while it's still Wednesday!
> 
> The response to the last chapter was unreal! I said it in a few responses, but wow! Writing this thing is a lot of fun, but I enjoy reading all of the comments so much! You all know these characters so well and are able to pick up on the smallest details. Truly, thank you all for taking the time to leave the comments that you do! And to those who don’t leave comments, that’s okay, too! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Several of you informed me that a year has (almost?) passed since this story started. That’s wild. Let me go marathon write some chapters so that we’re not stuck in another one of Byulyi and Yongsun’s fights a year from now. Wishing everyone well :)


	48. Words of Wisdom

“It’s after 1:00 PM,” Wheein announced between bites. “Where’s Yongsun-unnie?”

The Fine Arts student’s patience with the resulting silence lasted until the food in her mouth was fully swallowed. Glaring sharply and expectantly at her friends—one to her right, the other across from her—Wheein raised her eyebrows, now confused as to why her question had yet to be answered.

“Don’t look at me,” Hyejin brushed her best friend off. “I sent a message in the group chat. **As you can see**,” she perfunctorily pointed at her phone on the table, full attention on her food.

“And she didn’t respond,” Byulyi butt in. Hyejin always did this, exaggerated her contributions to finding solutions to things.

“Hmm,” the group’s youngest placed an artificial nail to her chin in faux thought, “I don’t remember you doing anything to help, unnie. Maybe I missed that.”

“Maybe you did.”

“But she’s right, unnie,” Wheein came to Hyejin’s defense. “If you texted her, we’d get an answer in half a second.”

Hoping the other two caught her reluctance to follow down this line of conversation, the athlete slung an arm over the empty chair to her right. “If I remember correctly, the two of you are her favorites, right? That’s what you both said. Using that logic, why would she respond to me before responding to you?”

Not even seconds later, all three of their phones vibrated atop the white, plastic table. Gloating, Byulyi smirked. “See?”

The four of them planned to meet for lunch at the Food Court in the Student Center. Accommodating all of their schedules during the week was a chore, but, determined to make it happen, Wheein and Hyejin found a pocket of time that all four women could meet. The third-years and Byulyi were supposed to meet at noon, with Yongsun joining at 1:00 PM. The issue, as Wheein had pointed out, was that it was past 1:00 PM with no sign of life from Yongsun.

“Ugh. She’s not coming,” Hyejin pouted, unceremoniously dropping her phone back onto the table.

“What!”

“Yeah. She has a group project for one of her classes and one of her partners suddenly can’t meet later so unnie has to work on things with the person now.”

“Today is the only possible day,” Wheein whined.

“We’ll have to try for this weekend,” Hyejin suggested.

“It’s part one of Chorong-unnie’s birthday celebration this weekend.”

“Then we’ll have to try again next week.”

“That’s too far away!”

“What else would you recommend, Wheein?”

Sensing Hyejin’s growing annoyance, the artist turned her attention to Byulyi. “What time is Yongsun-unnie done with classes later?” The athlete was across the table, face-deep in her phone. “Hello?!” Wheein flailed her arms.

“Who? Me?” Byulyi asked belatedly, looking back and forth between Hyejin and Wheein in confusion.

“Obviously you. We don’t have her schedule memorized.”

“I don’t have her schedule memorized either.”

“Unnie, please,” Hyejin chuckled while wrapping strands of noodles around her chopsticks. It annoyed Byulyi. “Just answer Wheein’s question before she throws something at you.”

Looking over to Wheein, Byulyi saw the impatience wearing thin in the younger woman’s eyes. Sitting up straight, she sighed. “What day is today? Wednesday?”

“Yes,” Wheein confirmed immediately.

Closing her eyes to conjure a mental image of Yongsun’s schedule, the senior mumbled, “She has class until 6:00 PM.” 5:50 PM to be exact, but if she said that out loud, it would sound creepy.

Despite her prickliness this afternoon, Byulyi was just as excited to see Yongsun as Wheein and Hyejin were—equal parts excited and anxious. The two hadn’t physically been in the same space since Yongsun’s birthday on Sunday. Everyone, graduate students included, were plagued by midterms. This wave of exams, papers, and projects, though, seemed busier than usual for Yongsun. As she usually did, Byulyi offered to come over after practice, only to be met with rejection two days in a row, even after **promising** to not be a distraction.

It was very likely that Yongsun was, in fact, as busy as she claimed to be, but the tenuous resolution to Sunday’s fiasco weighed heavily on Byulyi. Rationality and logic didn’t fare well under the weight of such stressful conditions, leaving the senior to conclude that Yongsun was avoiding her.

Never mind that the blonde responded to all of her text messages and answered her pop-up phone calls, the physical distancing **had **to mean that Yongsun was still miffed about the way things went down on her birthday. This sudden absence from lunch only served to further confirm her suspicions that Yongsun was mad at her.

Wheels spinning on how to fix this latest disaster, Byulyi missed the women across from her trying to get her attention.

“Unnie!” Wheein yelled, momentarily drawing glances from students packed in at nearby tables.

“Huh?”

“Hyejin said she needs you to give her some money.”

“What?” Turning attention to Hyejin, Byulyi asked again, “What?”

“I need money. For Yongsun-unnie.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“If you were **listening** instead of daydreaming, you would’ve heard the plan.”

Summarizing things once again, Hyejin explained that because her classes today ended at 3:15 PM, she’d do some schoolwork before meeting with Yongsun at 6:00 PM. Wheein would join them soon after getting out of class at 7:00 PM.

“You have class until 7:00 PM?”

“Please don’t remind me.”

“That sucks. Hyejin, why do **I** have to give **you** money for Yong, though?”

“To feed her!” Hyejin emphasized. “She doesn’t listen, Wheein. Unnie, I said it how many times now?”

“Why am I paying for feeding her?”

“We obviously don’t have money for it, and unnie can’t go hours without eating.” It was the ‘obviously’ that made Byulyi’s eye twitch. Reaching into her the pocket of her sweatpants, the athlete grabbed her wallet, retrieving a few paper bills. “**I** can’t go hours without eating either,” Hyejin peered over the table to catch a look at the open wallet. Halting her actions at those words, Byulyi met the youngest’s unwavering stare. Sighing and mumbling unintelligibly under her breath, she pulled another bill out. “Wheein can’t go without eating eith–”

“Hyejin.”

“Y’know what, yeah, that’s enough.” Counting the money handed over, she tapered off, “We’ll make do, I guess.”

“Someone’s cranky,” Wheein chimed in.

“The two of you are scamming me. Plenty to be cranky about.”

“It’s not that,” the younger woman observed her every movement. “You’ve been like this since we sat down. Hyejin and I thought you’d be in better spirits after ‘celebrating’ unnie’s birthday on Sunday.”

And there it was. An hour and twenty minutes into their lunch.

“We were hoping to bring it up with both you and Yongsun-unnie present, but since that’s clearly not happening now . . .”

“You set this entire lunch up to do what? Ask about what’s going on between us?”

“And to catch up,” Hyejin added.

“But we already did that in the first half of the lunch, which leaves the final item on the agenda . . .”

“You and Yongsun-unnie!”

“The two of you were so cute at her party on Saturday!”

“Weren’t you knocked out, Wheein? Not sure how you can speak on things you didn’t personally witness or experience.”

“You see how she lashes out when angry, Hyejin? The two of them have that in common.” Turning back to the disgruntled athlete across from her, Wheein ignored the verbal jab that was directed at her. “I took one for the team on Saturday. It happens. Just like cute video calls happen. Right?”

“Was I supposed to not call her for her birthday?”

“I told you a few minutes and then the two of you took my phone hostage,” Hyejin spoke up.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Almost as dramatic as you were on Monday, messaging me about everyone that showed interest in unnie.”

“Oh my goodness! She was messaging me, too!” Wheein laughed in disbelief.

“‘Hyejin,’” the aggravating junior imitated Byulyi’s signature deep tone, “‘who is this person asking if Yong’s single?’”

“‘Wheein-ah, tell that kid he’s too young for her.’”

If the state of things between her and Yongsun weren’t so vulnerable, Byulyi would have laughed at the impersonations and her desperate attempts to deter strangers from pursuing the older woman. For her birthday, many of Yongsun’s friends made social media posts commemorating the day, as friends do. Most of them were innocuous. The comments were not. Beneath every beautiful photo of Yongsun were unwanted inquiries looking to find out ‘what’s her @’ and ‘is she single?’

Frankly, it pissed Byulyi off.

Pride bloomed within her at even the **prospect** of saying that she belonged to Kim Yongsun and that Kim Yongsun belonged to her. More than anything else, that’s what Byulyi wanted—the right to brag to family and friends about dating Yongsun.

It was the one thing beyond her reach and control.

Even if she and Yongsun were officially dating, Byulyi wouldn’t explicitly broadcast it on social media, but she imagined she’d continue with more of what she already did: being herself and leaving a trail of circumstantial evidence behind for those concerned enough to piece together. In terms of social media, the title wouldn’t change her behavior much. However, she expected it to inspire their friends to at least step in as gatekeepers. She and Yongsun being together would have likely prompted **someone**—even the nosier members of the SNU community that knew the degrees of separation between everyone at the school—to respond with a sarcastic ‘not gonna happen’ or ‘better luck next time’. But no, she and Yongsun weren’t together, so instead of telling these randos off, everyone laughed and liked the overzealous and overambitious comments of interest.

“So?”

“So?”

“Tell us.”

“About what?”

“About what’s going on between you and Yongsun-unnie.”

“Something’s going on between me and Yongsun?” The hope was that her playing dumb would annoy Wheein and Hyejin as much as their questions annoyed her.

“Yes,” Wheein spoke confidently. “You confessed, she confessed, and now the two of you are hiding a relationship from us.”

“A relationship? Are you sure of that, Wheein?” She chuckled, but it held no humor.

“I’m positive. We talked to unnie on Monday and asked her what she did for her birthday. She said she spent the day with you, except she wouldn’t say what the two of you did. That’s suspicious.”

“**And** you two were being extra cute on Saturday. Like a couple.”

“We were acting the way we’ve always acted.” Not fully the truth, not fully a lie.

“Exactly,” Wheein giggled, “like a couple.”

Byulyi released the exasperated groan she’d been holding back since this topic came up. Raking her fingers roughly across her face, she tried to end the conversation without blowing up on her friends—the state of things between her and Yongsun wasn’t their fault.

“We’re not a couple.”

“And you expect us to believe that because . . . ?”

“I will say,” Wheein jumped in, “you’re more convincing than Yongsun-unnie probably would have been. She **always** gives it away when she’s lying.”

“Omg, yes!”

Falling into their own world, Wheein and Hyejin recounted tale after tale of the poorly concealed fibs and fables exposed by Yongsun’s inability to keep a straight face. Judging by the laughter floating over from their side of the table, the two were having a great time. Byulyi almost felt bad about having to ruin the jovial mood. Almost.

“We’re not together. I’m not lying, and it’s not a joke.” The cacophony of voices filling the Food Court continued, but Byulyi’s words drained the air at their table. A shift in mood was felt immediately, almost making Byulyi wish for a return to moments ago where the juniors were too wrapped up in jokes to pay her much of a mind. Almost.

Scratch that. She definitely preferred the excitement of moments ago to the looks of pity now directed at her.

“You’re really not together?” Wheein’s taunting was now nothing but excessive cautiousness, **finally** approaching the topic with the reluctance Byulyi wished for as soon as it was first brought up. Timing was just not on her side these days.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Wheein. We’re taking things slow, trying to make sure we do things right.” Accustomed to repeating them to herself each day, the words slipped effortlessly from her mouth.

It’s not that big of a deal.

We’re taking things slow.

Trying to make sure we do things right.

Any one of those sentences, or any combination of the three, always did the trick when Byulyi needed to blanket any doubts she had about her and Yongsun—she’d been using them more often recently. It seemed the carefully crafted words of comfort were working on Wheein.

“Oh! The two of you talked about it then?” The question was tinged with relief.

“Yeah. She needs more time, which makes sense. So . . . no labels or anything for now. We’re just taking things day by day and seeing what happens.”

“Hmm. It’s a tricky situation, but I feel like you two got past the hardest part—the confessions. There might be tough times to come, but you and unnie have been through a lot together already, and that was before either of you acknowledged your feelings. Now that those are out in the open, hardships may be more manageable since you both know that the other is in it for the long haul and won’t flake under pressure.”

If what Byulyi shared with her friends was the full truth, Wheein’s words of wisdom would have been reassuring and spot on. She didn’t have the heart, though, to explain just how complicated something as straightforward as reciprocal feelings had become.

“You should get in the business of giving advice professionally, Wheein,” the athlete mustered up a small smile.

“If I weren’t so good at art, I might have considered it.”

“Speaking of art, it’s a quarter to 2:00 PM. Both of you should get going before you’re late for your classes.”

“Already? Time flies when you’re being nosy.”

Watching as Wheein cleared the area around her, Byulyi noticed that she hadn’t heard Hyejin’s voice in minutes, which was odd because she **never** stopped talking. Looking over, she caught the junior staring back at her intensely, features molded in contrived passivity. If Wheein weren’t present, Hyejin—who Byulyi **knew** wasn’t buying the half story—would have given her a less understanding and much less gentle earful than the one her childhood friend offered.

Thank goodness Wheein was present.

As the younger women collected themselves, Byulyi reminded them that her Senior Night was on Friday, dinner with her family would follow, and that her mom insisted they attend. Fed up of her oldest daughter forgetting to mention dinner to her friends, Kyungah called Byul every other day until the athlete could confirm that Wheein, Hyejin, Yongsun, and Heeyeon would join the family for a meal to celebrate the ending of Byulyi’s collegiate basketball career.

“How could we forget, unnie? Free food and we get to hang out with your mom. She’s so much fun, unlike you,” Wheein playfully stuck her tongue out before giving Byul one final parting hug.

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” the senior deadpanned.

“Tell your dad I said that he’s fun, too. I don’t want him to feel left out.”

“Back off my man, Wheein. I’m his favorite.” Of course Hyejin would speak up to stake her claim on Byulyi’s father.

Waving her off, Wheein made her exit, unable to delay her journey to class any longer.

“She speaks,” Byulyi gasped in faux surprise.

“She does, but she prefers not to repeat herself.”

“It’s fine, Hyejin.”

“That’s what I thought after this weekend . . . and then you opened your mouth today.”

“It’s fine. We’re figuring it out.”

“Are you trying to convince me or convince yourself?”

“Your class starts in less than 10 minutes.”

The hope was that Hyejin cared more for her studies than her need to be right. Once she sighed, Byulyi, too, let out a sigh. One of relief.

“If I didn’t actually like this class, I’d skip it and make you tell me what’s really going on.”

“It’s a good thing you really like this class then.”

“Unnie,” Hyejin warned her.

“Things are **fine**, Hyejin. Yong and I have some things to talk through, but we’re figuring it out. Midterms are making it difficult right now to find the time we need but I think we’re on the right track.” Meeting the other woman’s fierce glare head-on, Byulyi smiled genuinely when Hyejin relented.

“Fine. I have no choice but to take your word for it. For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Rummaging through her oversized black tote, Hyejin fished her cell phone out, groaning at her screen.

“Okay, I have to leave **now** if I only want to be 5 minutes late, but unnie, **please**, remember what I told you during Midnight Madness weekend.”

“How I could ever forget?”

“You’d somehow find a way.”

“Go to class, Hyejin-ah.”

“Yes, mom, I’m going,” the young woman dramatically rolled her eyes. “Have a safe practice later, okay?”

“I will, thank you.”

With one last hug, Hyejin left Byulyi to her own devices. Unsurprisingly, the athlete’s mind wandered to her friend’s words from months ago and remained stuck on them.

_“Contrary to what you may believe_, _I’m a fan of the two of you being together. Just not right now . . . You’d be great for her and she’d be great for you when you are **both** ready. She’s not there yet.”_

From her Food Court exit to the moment she laid across the couch in the team’s locker room, Byulyi mulled over Hyejin’s words. Upon first hearing them in the club forever ago, she focused on the first half, the more optimistic words of support and encouragement.

Now though, as they played on loop in her head, increasing in volume each time, Byulyi was forced to acknowledge that **all** of Hyejin’s speech might have been correct—including, or maybe especially, the part she avoided until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I have less time now that I’m home, but I do and I hate that. As a result, this chapter was cut shorter. BUT, what was originally planned for the second half of this chapter will now be included in the next chapter and, funny enough, I think it fits better there than it would have in this chapter. Life works in funny ways sometimes.
> 
> I’ve spoken noncommittally about it before, but I’ve been trying to get to the point where multiple updates each week are possible. For one, I don’t want this story to last another year and, for two, this story has grown SO much in the past year. For the first 10 chapters or so, I remember personally messaging everyone that subscribed to this story to thank them for reading, especially when things hadn’t yet picked up. To think the number of people reading this has grown to this point, it’s surreal. I can’t think of a better way to thank you all than by updating more frequently. So, while I can’t say when I’ll get ahead enough to make that happen, I do want you all to know that it is something I have in the back of my mind. Plus, the story’s already outlined/mapped out and I’m very excited to write many of those scenes and want to share that with you all as soon as possible.
> 
> Anyway, those were my thoughts. Feel free to share yours (on whatever you want) below. Or not (there may not be much to say this chapter). Either way, thank you for reading!


	49. Something Like That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I been gone for a minute, now I’m back with the jump off. If anything doesn't make sense, it's because I'm DUMB and don't know how to write. If you're reading this, let's get back to it!
> 
> I'm keeping "Chapter 49" up for the time being because I want to respond to the really kind comments you all left. If I delete the chapter, the comments go, too. As such, I'll respond and then delete that chapter next week.

Startled by the sudden wave of noise crashing against the basketball arena’s concrete walls, Yongsun tightened her fingers around the strap of her bag and quickened her pace. Given how shitty her week had been, it shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise that her Friday evening wasn’t going according to plan. That brief acknowledgment of the week prior opened a floodgate of unwelcome thoughts. Operating on autopilot her body fell back into an old routine, navigating the decorated halls, taking familiar turns, and bounding down the steps it needed to. A blessing, because her mind was otherwise occupied.

Most of the week’s events were on her radar from the beginning of the semester as each of her classes’ syllabi marked in bold, and sometimes a different font color, the course’s key assignments. The past week’s spike in workload was not a surprise to her. Yongsun knew it was coming. She made plans ahead of time to spread her responsibilities out into manageable chunks.

And still. The week kicked her ass.

Between extra hours at The Center to offer additional academic support to her caseload of college-athletes stressing over their own midterms, accommodating irresponsible and inconsiderate group project members, and writing paper after paper, the graduate student came dangerously close several times to dropping out. Well, not actually, because Yongsun didn’t know how one went about dropping out of graduate school. Did she just stop showing up to things? And if she did, how long would it take before a professor or administrator contacted her to figure out why she suddenly disappeared? The night before, she called Yonghee minutes to midnight to ask her sister exactly that.

_“I was thinking . . .”_

_“Don’t hurt yourself,” Yonghee replied dryly._

_“Shouldn’t you be happy to hear from me? We haven’t talked in a while, you know.”_

_“Really? I didn’t notice.” Sarcasm was her older sister’s first and only language, even when they were younger. Yongsun was unable to understand back then why Yonghee always acted like she didn’t care, as if she had no emotions. Slick and sly comments sat at the tip of her tongue, ready responses for **everything**. What made it worse was that there was never anything Yongsun could do about it. Outwitting and out-sarcasming Yonghee was impossible—she’d tried and failed miserably several times, much to her sister’s delight—and at no point in her younger life was she ever physically capable of beating Yonghee. Outmatched in every way and experiencing nothing but defeat humbled the youngest Kim. Shifting gears and adopting a “get in where you fit in” approach, Yongsun witnessed the relationship between her and Big Yong improving significantly, especially while Yonghee was abroad for school and work. The sarcasm and coldness weren’t fronts at all, her sister was an asshole. As time passed, though, Yonghee learned to tone it down sometimes with Yongsun, and Yongsun learned not to take every icy quip and remark to heart._

_“Yeah right, you’re full of shit.”_

_“Watch your mouth. I’m older than you.”_

_“You don’t even care about that! You just use the age card when it’s convenient for you,” Yongsun whined._

_“Benefits of being the eldest.” Her sister’s voice was cool, calm, collected, and . . . a little bored? Having sat through thousands of these tantrums by now, it seemed Yonghee didn’t find this latest one impressive at all._

_“Whatever. As I was first saying, I’ve been thinking.”_

_“Mmm.”_

_“What if I dropped out of school and worked instead? It’s **very** possible to make a way for myself without graduate school. Many people do it. Omma and Appa did it. You did it. I could do it too. Right? I could,” she answered her own rhetorical question, “yeah, I could. The real question is **how** do I drop out?”_

_“Yongsun.”_

_“Yeah?” The graduate student answered brightly and optimistically._

_“Don’t call me with stupid questions like this again. Go do whatever schoolwork you have and leave me alone.”_

_The line went dead immediately afterward._

Ever the obedient baby of the family, Yongsun did as she was told, spending the next 5 hours completing the last of her hell week assignments before catching a few hours of sleep then trudging through a Friday full of classes. It had to be the disorientation that led to the poor decision to take a nap after her last class.

Not-so-deftly, the young woman awkwardly shuffled past the rowdy occupants of the student section, attempting to both keep her balance in her heeled boots and prevent her handbag from swaying uncontrollably. Several timid “excuse me’s” later, she released a slight breath of relief as, not too much further down the row, familiar brown and black hair came into view.

The groans and grunts of annoyance from the last few students Yongsun passed must have been enough to tip Wheein and Hyejin off to her arrival because they both looked over—in sync, because of course.

“Look who decided to finally show up,” Hyejin sarcastically chided while Wheein simply removed the jacket that claimed the unoccupied chair next to her.

“I overslept. Sorry.” Not bothering to remove her outerwear yet, Yongsun sank into the seat, uttered a quick thanks to Wheein, and stared off absentmindedly. The younger women understood she needed a few moments to mentally collect herself. “Did I miss anything?” She asked a couple of minutes later. Eyes scanning the basketball court, Yongsun began peeling her leather jacket off, attempting to accomplish it without standing back up again. All remaining energy was zapped.

“No. Things are going to start soon, though. The teams went into the locker rooms for what I think is their last pep talk . . . or whatever they do when they go in there.”

“You look like shit, unnie.”

“Thank you, **Wheein**, for the helpful commentary.”

“And what about **Hyejin’s** helpful commentary?” The youngest asked, an aggravating smirk playing on her blood-red lips.

“Have yet to hear any,” Yongsun deadpanned.

“Don’t be like that!” Hyejin reached over Wheein to playfully slap Yongsun’s thigh. “Oh! Firm. Nice. Anyway, you know I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“In what world is ‘you look like shit’ ever meant positively? Wheein, stop laughing.”

“I meant ‘you look like shit’ as in you look **tired**. But still hot! The outfit today is very chic. And the bag! Someone especially fashionable must have bought that for you,” Hyejin grinned while pointing a lilac stiletto nail at the tan, crocodile-print bucket bag resting in Yongsun’s lap.

“You’re shameless,” Yongsun rolled her eyes but was betrayed by a stray chuckle. “I can’t lie, though, it’s a beautiful bag. My mom was jealous when I sent her a picture of it. She told me to tell you her birthday so that you can buy her a nice gift, too.”

“And I’m the shameless one?” Basking in the chorus of laughter from her elders, Hyejin dramatically flipped her voluminous, long, black hair across her right shoulder and smiled cutely.

All three fell into a more subdued rhythm after that, a stark contrast from the students around them that grew rowdier as the seconds ticked by. Wheein and Hyejin began a discussion about something that had nothing to do with Yongsun, prompting the trio’s oldest to pull her phone out. Thumbs lighting up her screen, Yongsun sent Byulyi a good luck text message. Not that the athlete would see it before the game started, but it was the thought that counted.

Byulyi.

She and her best friend were . . . okay? In any other instance, describing a relationship of any nature as “okay” could be perceived as underwhelming. Given what transpired between the two the last time they saw each other on Yongsun’s birthday, though, them being ‘okay’ was an accomplishment.

‘The incident’, as Yongsun referred to it in discussions with herself—because she had neither the time nor desire to discuss what happened with anyone else—, ended with a tenuous agreement to “figure things out together” before she and Byulyi spent the remainder of her birthday lazing about, filling idle time with anything that didn’t require talking**:** napping, eating, watching movies. Exactly what she wanted and needed in the moment—a reprieve from the awkward and uncomfortable conversation around why Byulyi froze in the middle of them having sex. In the middle of them about to have sex? Did they have sex? At the time, Yongsun wasn’t sure, but the embarrassment from how things played out lingered that evening, leaving the graduate student little desire to think through the specifics of what she and Byulyi did. The end to Byulyi’s explanation for why she reacted the way she reacted was a blessing that couldn’t arrive sooner. The explanation and the numerous apologies chasing it were sincere, Yongsun had no doubt. However, they did nothing to lessen her embarrassment.

Willing to admit her faults to herself, the blonde acknowledged that the timing of her announcement could have been better. In her defense, though, she didn’t go into things **planning** to initiate sex, but Byulyi’s sweet and thoughtful gifts did something to her. Instead of relying on logic, Yongsun let herself give in to the sexual urges she’d suppressed for far too long. And it was **great**. Her virginity pushed to the back of her mind, she focused instead on how Byulyi’s skilled lips and feather-soft fingers set her skin afire. Their time together was arousing, exhilarating, and, surprisingly enough, it put her at ease with how **right** their actions felt. That level of intimacy and vulnerability was foreign to Yongsun until that afternoon and, despite that, it being Byulyi that she shared those moments with made it all unfold more organically than she imagined things would.

Before she knew it, her clothes had disappeared and, so too did the confidence that fed her actions. Like slamming the brakes on a vehicle, she and Byulyi arriving at the point of no return jerked Yongsun back to her reality. If she remembered to announce her virginity earlier, she would have mentioned it earlier, but she didn’t, leaving **that** moment as the last possible opportunity to share what she did and . . . yeah. Word vomit.

Truthfully, Yongsun brought it up not because she expected anything from the younger, but because, one, she felt it her responsibility and, two, she needed it on record in case she was very bad at sex. With no evidence as to why, she believed she could be **great** at sex. Not good, great. It’s how she approached most things in life. Kim Yongsun firmly believed that much was possible if one put in the work—sex was no different. If she practiced, she could be great at it. But she needed Moonbyul to know that **if** she was bad at it, it wasn’t because she was bad at it, it was because she’d never done it before.

Chuckling softly, Yongsun shook her head at how worked up she was getting at the memories of the previous Sunday. To be fair, though, almost a full week later, this was the first chance having real **time** to reassess all that happened on her birthday. Starting the following Monday, school and work demanded all of her attention. The memories flooding in of all she’d endured since then sent the young woman into a daze, one she only barely escaped by belatedly noticing the snapping fingers before her eyes.

“Wheein, you scared me,” Yongsun yelped, a hand clutching at her chest. A bit out of it, the graduate student’s head whipped around with confusion living on her face at the dimmed lights and wall of people towering over her.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for a few seconds now. Hyejin thought you were asleep with your eyes open,” Wheein quickly pointed a thumb to their other friend, who, like those surrounding Yongsun, was on her feet, eyes fixed on the court. “They’re starting.”

“Oh, thanks,” she sputtered, cheeks warming from embarrassment. More time had passed than she realized.

“You okay, unnie?” The skepticism in Wheein’s voice was crisp and clear even over the increasing roars of anticipation from the audience.

Slowly rising to her feet, Yongsun balanced her jacket on the back of the royal blue folding stadium seat. She had no desire to explain the thoughts still swirling in her head nor did she know how to express the trepidation around coming face-to-face later with Byulyi for the first time in almost a week knowing how much they still had to work through.

The noise in both her head and in the audience calmed to a lull soon after as all eyes gravitated to the massive video board hanging from the ceiling. Without warning, background music rang out as a montage played for all to see. There were pictures and videos of SNU’s three seniors, chronicling their journeys from infancy to young adulthood. For three minutes straight, the audience oohed and aww’ed before the walk down memory lane was interrupted by teammates and coaches sharing their thoughts on the graduating class. Player by player, they shared sweet words about each of the seniors, letting the audience in on a few inside jokes and funny stories along the way.

Instinctively, a smile crept onto Yongsun’s face as she listened to what everyone had to say about Hyunjae and Jonghee. The personalities shining through the video added depth to each teammate previously unknown to her. Byulyi had spent many an hour telling Yongsun about everyone on the team but, as she didn’t know most of the people the athlete spoke about, she spent most of the time fake-laughing to not hurt Byulyi’s feelings. Now, though, the eccentricities that she fake-laughed at in the past genuinely made her chuckle as she put faces to the names of the rambunctious group her best friend always bragged about. It was a nice peek into Byulyi’s other life.

Before the graduate student realized it, Moonbyul’s video began and, while she knew Byulyi was popular, the cheers from the audience at the onset of the athlete’s video reminded Yongsun of **how** popular Moon Byulyi was. Tuning them out, she smiled proudly as clips of Byul during games and practices briefly flashed across the screen before the first teammate spoke.

_“What do I think about Byulyi-unnie? I don’t,”_ the young woman responded, a cheeky smile thrown at the camera. _“I don’t think about her.”_ The audience collectively roared in laughter at that before quieting down to listen to and cheer at the heartfelt words about the team’s captain.

All Yongsun could do was smile dumbly. More often than not, Byulyi came home after practice nitpicking her performance and concerned about if she was letting her teammates and coaches down. Yet throughout her video, those same teammates and coaches did nothing but sing her praises.

_“She’s my first captain at SNU but I already told the rest of the team that she’ll be the best captain I have while I’m here. They took it well.”_ The same cheeky teammate from earlier followed those strong words up with stories about how kind and helpful Byulyi had been to her all year, especially after her injury. _“She worked hard before getting injured but she worked so much harder to come back from being hurt. During her recovery, she started inviting me to watch film with her before practice and would give me advice on little things I could change to make a big difference in my game. She didn’t have to at all, but she did and I’m grateful.”_

It was all extremely touching. In the eyes of the people that worked with her day in and day out, Byulyi was an excellent basketball player and an even better leader. Yongsun couldn’t roll her eyes enough—she’d always tell Byulyi that she was being overly pessimistic about things and the athlete would insist that she wasn’t. Now, look. Yongsun was right. Slightly annoyed, she pulled her phone out from one of her pockets and sent Byulyi another message that she wouldn’t see until much later.

**To: Byul-ah**

You are SO annoying. I KNEW that your team loved you 🥺

* 🙄_7:49 PM_

_“She got hurt and we, as a team, decided that we had to step our game up so that she didn’t come back to a disaster that she’d have to fix. And now she’s back, thank goodness,”_ one of the older members of the team breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. _“Unnie, don’t get hurt again. It’s not in my genetics to work as hard as I had to while you were gone.”_

A few other teammates shared similar jokes, once again providing comic relief, this time in discussing Byulyi’s injury. They saw firsthand how hard she worked to get back to the team and even fewer saw the emotional toll the injury took on the senior behind the scenes. As a member of the latter group, Yongsun could breathe easier knowing that those days were a thing of the past and that the team was collectively welcoming Moonbyul back, a transition the athlete worried endlessly about.

_“I won’t talk about missing her.”_ Those firm words drew Yongsun’s attention back to the video in time to hear Coach Ok close things out. _“We still have a championship to go after so I won’t talk as if the season is over because it’s not. I’ll say, though, that it’s hard to tell a player’s character when scouting them. All I see is their play on the court. If someone’s a great player, we recruit them. Byulyi was highly sought after and decided to go overseas. We were disappointed when that happened, but then we moved on. Then suddenly, she was available again and we got her. All I was thinking then was about how good of a player she was and how good she’d be for this program if all the pieces fit. Thankfully the pieces fit. Better than I could have imagined. I told her directly that I was putting the ball in her hands and whether we won a championship or not was up to her. She sulked and she doubted herself, but in the end, the ball was in her hands and we won a championship for the first time in years. That alone speaks to the type of player she is. But she left a stronger mark on the team by being the type of leader she is. Our team was always one that worked hard. Now it’s one that works hard through **healthy** competition. She played a big part in that. So . . . yeah, I’m happy we got her.”_

The woman didn’t smile once, yet it was obvious how dear Byulyi was to her. If Yongsun had to rank them, Coach Ok’s message was the most impactful simply because Yongsun knew it would mean the most to Byulyi.

As the lights came back to full brightness, Wheein and Hyejin huddled around Yongsun, the younger women giggling and making a fuss as the announcer let everyone know that it was time for the members of the senior class to receive their gifts and take pictures. All three readied their cell phones to record Byulyi’s moment. Times like this, Yongsun thought, reminded her of what was important. For the rest of the evening, she told herself, she wouldn’t worry about what she and Byulyi needed to fix or discuss because what didn’t need fixing or discussing was how much she cared for Byulyi and how happy she was to celebrate her best friend today.

Smile plastered on her face, Yongsun held her phone steady even as Wheein and Hyejin’s jostling nearly knocked it out of her hands.

“Last but certainly not least. Her accomplishments know no limits. On track to break school records for assists and scoring. A university champion. An Olympian. Accompanied by her parents Moon Sangcheol and Park Kyungah, and her younger sisters Seulgi and Yesol, make some noise for your captain. Moon Byulyi!”

*

The energy that evening was unlike any athletic event Yongsun had ever attended, be it during her time at SNU **or** SKKU. As hyperbolic as the statement seemed, it was true. Maybe it was the fact that this was her first social interaction all week **or** that this was the first time watching Byulyi play since before the athlete got injured. Maybe both played a role. Whatever the reason, Yongsun was restless the entire game, bouncing in her seat with an energy that must have been gifted to her from above, because she certainly did not possess it when first trudging into the building. She reacted to **everything**—harsh criticisms rained down on the referees each time a call didn’t go in SNU’s favor; her breath was muted and fingers clenched every time Byulyi held the ball or took contact; even the uncoordinated middle schoolers and their no-scoring halftime game had Yongsun giddy.

Something about the game made everything about the game the departure needed from a week of stress and deadlines, and the jumpstart necessary to mentally prepare for whatever shenanigans Chorong had planned that weekend as part one of her birthday festivities.

Fragments of conversations floated in and out of earshot as fans filed down the aisles, no doubt still buzzing from the team’s victory. Even Wheein and Hyejin, seated to Yongsun’s right, couldn’t stop discussing it.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen unnie play, I forgot how good she is.”

“Stop! I was about to say the exact same thing!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

Letting out a silent snort, Yongsun decided to let the two marvel a bit longer at them thinking the same thing at the same time. Eagle eyes wandering, she scanned the growing crowd on the basketball court for familiar faces, and, when she found none, allowed herself to get lost in the sea of strangers. It would be a while before the players began filtering out of the locker room, even longer before the seniors would grace the waiting crowd with their presence, so the graduate student began a game of her own to pass the time: spot the groupies. With this being Senior Night, it was expected that more family and friends would be in attendance. What Yongsun did not expect, but should have, was that more opportunists would be here tonight, too.

Throughout the game, she overheard a few students making comments about how “hot” some of the athletes were, Byulyi’s name among them, but so caught up in the quick-paced action on the court, Yongsun quickly brushed those off. **Now**, however, the annoyance she forgot earlier returned with a vengeance. At every unnecessarily short skirt—who wore skirts to basketball games?—and overly tight dress—come **on**—Yongsun’s eyeballs met the back of their sockets. The intentions for many of the people idling around down there were clear. That annoyed her more. This was supposed to be a night of wholesome celebration, **one night** free of the plotting and scheming on those atop the university’s social ladder. Just one night.

It seemed that was asking for too much.

It made sense, though, that Yongsun forgot about everything **extra** that came with Byul’s life as an athlete because, to Byulyi’s credit, the younger woman put in a lot of effort over the past few months to make it so. When the two of them were together, Byulyi gave Yongsun her full attention, and when they were apart—each hanging with their respective friend groups—she sent text messages throughout the evening, always asking how Yongsun’s night was going and if she was enjoying herself. The insecurities she had about their relationship piled high, but Yongsun would readily admit that many of the reasons she continued to hesitate weren’t Byul’s fault. The fears around the long-distance, long-term relationship on the horizon; the feelings of inadequacy when it came to their physical relationship; the women at every corner ready to throw themselves at Byulyi. None of them were the athlete’s fault, but no matter how much she wanted to wake up one day and say she was ready to be Byulyi’s girlfriend, no matter how secure and comfortable Moonbyul worked to make her feel, each of the aforementioned reasons continued to make Yongsun pause. She **hated** that.

“Okay, this is the second time today you’re spacing out, unnie. What’s wrong” Startled by suddenly hearing Wheein call her name, Yongsun put a temporary end to her gloomy thoughts.

“Why do you think something has to be wrong? I had a rough week, that’s all,” she fibbed. What she wouldn’t give to return to an hour ago when all three were too wrapped up in the basketball game to discuss anything else.

“You really need to work on your lies,” Hyejin spoke up.

“I’m lying? Why would I lie?” Her voice rose in pitch, making it more obvious that she was lying.

“You tell us,” Hyejin smirked self-satisfyingly, arching a brow as she did so.

“There’s nothing to tell. I’m not lying, you can ask Chorong. It was a long week.” Turning back to watch the still-growing cluster down on the basketball court, Yongsun racked her brain for a change of topic and came up empty.

“I’m sure Byul-unnie tried doing something to lift your spirits.”

Yongsun whipped her head to meet the challenge in Hyejin’s already-waiting eyes. There was something about the way the younger woman said that that made Yongsun think Hyejin knew more than she was letting on.

“We actually haven’t seen each other all week. I’ve been **that** busy. And why would you bring Byulyi up?”

“You’ve mentioned before that you two go for drives or snacks when things get stressful. Thought she did something like that this time around, too,” Hyejin shrugged. It was casual, but Yongsun **knew** there was more to it.

“Speaking of Byulyi-unnie,” Wheein, who had been watching Yongsun throughout the entire exchange, piped up. “How are the two of you doing?”

“How are we doing?”

“Yeah. I mean, you told us that both of you confessed and that you spent your birthday with her, but you were secretive about what the two of you did, so . . . any news for us?”

“You think you’re slick, huh?”

“Not at all. I’m very clearly and obviously fishing for information on the two of you.”

Officially uncomfortable with the topic of conversation being her and Byulyi’s relationship, Yongsun muttered a quick, “really, Wheein?” before turning away from them both.

“Can you blame me, unnie? You guys are leaving us in the dark,” she whined, stomping her feet slightly. As annoyed as Yongsun wanted to be at the invasive line of questioning, she just couldn’t. Stifling a smile at Wheein’s outburst, she distracted herself by checking her phone, only to find a text from Byulyi.

“We’re not leaving you in the dark, there’s just nothing to tell right now. When there’s something, I’ll be sure to let the two of you know.” Ignoring Hyejin’s skeptical gaze, the graduate student spoke up more conclusively when she saw Wheein open her mouth to respond. “Byul messaged me. She’s leaving the locker room now. We should head down there.”

Not waiting another moment, the blonde stood up to collect her jacket and purse, effectively ending **that** conversation. Wheein and Hyejin followed suit with no complaint. Thank goodness.

Their questions, though, brought back the uncertainty she briefly thought about before the game started—this would be the first time since Sunday that she and Byul were in the same room. And it would play out in front of their friends and Byulyi’s family. Because of course.

While traversing the aisles of steps, conversation was scarce, but the three fell into small talk again once they reached the final landing. It lasted until Wheein noticed Byulyi’s family near the bleachers across the court. The second youngest shrieked in excitement before pushing her way through the bodies crowding the floor. Following suit, Yongsun and Hyejin entered the mass of people in front of them, the former leading the way to clear a path for the latter.

It took a few minutes, but both breathed easier once they cleared the herd. Yongsun was surprised at first to find Wheein chatting up Yesol and Seulgi instead of Byulyi’s parents, but that made more sense when she found Park Kyungah and Moon Sangcheol in conversation with Coach Ok. Yongsun didn’t remember seeing her among the crowd moments ago, meaning she must have recently emerged from the locker room. That meant that Byulyi probably wasn’t too far behind. The thought alone was enough to cause a spike in her heart rate.

What was an appropriate greeting? Were they to hug? And if so, a full front-to-front hug? A hurried side hug? Was the plan while in front of the audience to pretend that Sunday didn’t happen and continue as close to normal as possible?

Yongsun’s mind reeled at it all.

In the meantime, she meandered over to where Wheein, and now Hyejin, were standing with the youngest Moon siblings. She wasn’t particularly familiar with either of them and that bred feelings of awkwardness for her. After a short greeting to the group, Yongsun sunk to the background, not contributing much of anything to the conversation. From what she picked up, most of Hyejin and Wheein’s queries revolved around how Seulgi’s first year at Chungnam National University was going. There was a lot of talking from all three, but the contents of the conversation could be summed up concisely: Seulgi was studying Political Science & Diplomacy, she liked the program, liked the school, and liked Daejeon. That base level of insight gave Yongsun all that she needed to nod every now and then to feign being mentally present. In reality, her mind was occupied with concern over how to handle the impending interaction with Byulyi. As the seconds ticked by, her anxiety escalated.

When the chatter among the crowd reached a crescendo, Yongsun knew it meant that Moonbyul finally made her way out. Glancing to the door on the opposite end of the room, her hunch was confirmed. And dammit if the athlete didn’t look **good**. The suits that, last year, were reserved only for away games seemed to be the dress code for all games this year, even home games, because Byulyi waltzed into the gymnasium in all her suited-up glory. The grey suit was tailored to perfection, accentuating her long limbs and lean-muscled frame while hints of bare skin peeked out beneath the undone top buttons of her white Oxford shirt. And with chestnut hair still piled atop her head in a messy bun, Yongsun knew that every one the athlete made time to speak to was granted an unobstructed view of that delicate neck and mouthwatering tattoo.

Enough time had passed since their last meeting that Yongsun forgot how easy on the eyes Byulyi was—their brief video calls throughout the week did her no justice. For all the “hot” and “sexy” people called her, Yongsun felt at that moment that Byulyi didn’t get enough credit for how beautiful she was. There were the defined muscles, of course, but their contrast with her still soft facial features heightened the athlete’s charm exponentially.

Continuing to track the younger woman’s every movement, Yongsun mentally slapped herself for fucking Sunday up. She had all of **that** in her bed and fumbled it. Very on-brand for her. Ruining something great by overthinking.

Shame only barely returned to the blonde when she realized she’d been salivating over Byulyi whilst only steps away from the athlete’s family. She was better than that and, deciding to be better, Yongsun shooed away her salacious thoughts and composed herself.

Judging by the way Wheein, Hyejin, Seulgi, and Yesol carried on, they hadn’t yet noticed Byulyi’s arrival, but Yongsun could see nothing **but** Byulyi. Watching her in her element like this was captivating, the way she expertly maneuvered through the crowd, stopping every few steps to greet her teammates and their families, kind eyes, impish smiles, and probably unbelievably charming words pouring effortlessly from her lips. Her composure and sociable nature were inherent parts of who she was, fluidly suiting each new group of people she interacted with. The longer Yongsun watched, the more certain she grew that Byulyi was meant for this life. There was an undeniable intensity and mastery of skills that she displayed on the basketball court, but her control over everything that came with basketball off the court was just as impressive.

Tracking. Tracking. Tracking. As everyone around her chatted animatedly, Yongsun watched vigilantly as Moonbyul drew nearer, and rolled her eyes as the athlete only narrowly escaped the clutches of an overzealous young woman that looked to be trying too hard to “congratulate” the senior. Only when Byul approached her parents and Coach Ok did Yongsun look away. Faced, yet again, with not knowing how to handle the situation, she fished for her cellphone and busied herself with thumbing through social media and catching up on messages in Chorong’s birthday group chat.

What started as a distraction eventually fully captured Yongsun’s attention. She joined the conversation as last-minute changes to Chorong’s party were introduced—more people were attending than originally planned so the reservation needed to be adjusted. Not surprisingly, it was Chorong’s sorority sisters at the center of the issue. From what Yongsun heard in stories, they were a ton of fun but most of them were also unpredictable and preferred to live on the wild side more often than not. So . . . Chorong. They were a group of young Chorongs.

Engrossed in the back and forth between Insoo—bless his heart—and one of the sorority sisters, Yongsun didn’t even notice Byulyi approaching until the younger woman’s sensually-deep voice rang out closer than expected.

“Hey, stranger.” A playful smile sat on the athlete’s face. Offering a small greeting in return, Yongsun’s face flushed. Despite all the time today to think about it, she still didn’t know where they stood.

Byulyi cleared that up.

Without warning, the graduate student felt herself being pulled into one of the warmest hugs she’d received all month. It was everything she didn’t know she needed. As soon as Byulyi’s arms wrapped completely around her, Yongsun melted into the embrace, it finally hitting her how much she missed Byulyi’s physical presence all week.

“You look cute,” the taller woman pulled back some, taking in Yongsun’s outfit. Black turtleneck tucked into black skinny jeans tucked into black sock boots. There was nothing special about her outfit, Byulyi was just being extra, Yongsun decided. “How was it?” The athlete asked in a softer voice.

“How was what?”

“The game. How was I?”

That made Yongsun pause. She’d been around basketball enough to understand the basics, and, yes, she sometimes kept Byulyi company when she watched scouting film, but she was no expert on the sport. At all. Not even close. Also, Byulyi had an exceptional game—20 points, 10 assists, 3 rebounds. Objectively, she was great. There was no need for such a question. “You played well. How did it feel?” **That**, Yongsun thought, was the more important question, especially as Byulyi mentioned needing to get back to full form several times after being medically cleared to return to sport.

“It was the best I’ve felt since coming back. I wasn’t second-guessing myself, just playing with a clear head. Coach got rid of my minutes restriction, too. Finally. It felt good.”

“Well, I’m happy for you and proud of you. All the hard work paid off.”

They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before soft smiles formed on both pairs of lips. It was a moment. They were having a moment. So when Byulyi opened her mouth to speak, Yongsun assumed it would be something appropriate for the moment they were having. Maybe something excessively sweet or flirty. Instead . . .

“Did you purposely copy my hairstyle?” The athlete pointed to the faded-blonde mop of a bun atop Yongsun’s head.

“Did you pay the announcer to say you’re taller than you are?” Yongsun shot back, sucking her teeth afterward.

“Oh my gosh. You always avoid the question when you don’t want to admit that you got caught,” Byulyi giggled uncontrollably.

“I’m ignoring the question because it’s a stupid question. I got dressed before ever seeing you so obviously I didn’t copy your hairstyle. Your turn, answer the question. Did you pay the announcer?”

“He spoke facts.”

“You’re not 174 cm,” Yongsun deadpanned.

“I let the professionals take my height, they reported what they measured.”

“You’re 171.5 cm, **maybe** 172 cm once every blue moon. 174 cm is not realistic.”

“You’re not qualified to speak to me about height. Stay out of tall people’s business.”

“You’re not tall! You–”

“I was waiting to see how long it would take for you to acknowledge the rest of us, but you’re too busy arguing with Yongsun-unnie about height,” Wheein interrupted the banter. “This is how she treats us, Hyejin.”

“It’s hurtful but I’ve grown accustomed to it,” the other young woman’s monotone voice rang out.

“I was **literally** on my way to hug all four of you, but Yongsun started a petty argument. It’s true what they say, maturity doesn’t always come with age.”

And just like that, the bubble of attraction burst. Moonbyul was fucking annoying.

Giggling like the toddler she was, the athlete scampered over to give Wheein and Hyejin their own personal greetings. She tried hugging her younger sisters, too, but they both rejected her—it put a smile on Yongsun’s face.

Things moved quickly after that. Their discussion with Coach Ok finally finished, Byulyi’s parents came over to join the group of young women, Byul’s mom making a fuss the whole time over how sorry she was that she didn’t greet them earlier.

“Look at you,” Park Kyungah held Yongsun’s face in her hands after wrapping the blonde in a hug. “So pretty. Such a beautiful girl. Sangcheol-ah, isn’t she beautiful?”

Byul’s mom didn’t notice her husband’s reluctance and discomfort around commenting on how beautiful his daughter’s friends were, but Yongsun did. Deciding to put the poor man out of his misery, she spoke up so that he didn’t have to. “Thank you, Auntie.”

“You’re coming to dinner with us tonight, right? Byulyi told me that she told you about it.”

“I’m coming, yes. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course you were invited. And no need to be so formal! I’m glad we’re all able to celebrate together tonight. She’s driving there, right? Our car can only fit us and the children.”

“I’m not sure. She didn’t mention anything to me.”

“Let me go ask this kid what the plan is. She just does her own thing sometimes and doesn’t tell anyone,” Byul’s mom muttered as she suddenly left to speak to Moonbyul, who, by the looks of things, was still being annoying, her sisters the focus of her attention.

The gymnasium had cleared out significantly in the past 15 minutes, Yongsun noticed. It wouldn’t be much longer, she figured, until their group took off, too. Preparing for the departure, she slipped her leather jacket on and went to sit on the row of bleachers nearby. Yongsun reached for her cellphone again, but this time out of genuine curiosity over whether the issue for Chorong’s party was resolved.

“I’m sorry, are we boring you?”

“Yeah,” she instantly responded without looking up from the screen.

“Well . . . I did not prepare a response for if you said ‘yes’. You got me there.”

“Stupid.”

“That’s rude.”

“I’m rude. You should know this by now.”

“No comment. If I agree, I’ll never hear the end of it. Anyway, we’re heading out. I had to sit through my mom scolding me about not driving when my car is literally parked outside. Because I’m driving. Which was the plan the entire time. So I got scolded for nothing. The two of you have that in common. Yelling at me for things I already took care of.”

“You’re so much more attractive when you keep your mouth **closed**.”

“Perhaps. Okay, come on. Everyone else left for the parking lot already. It’s you, me, Wheein, and Hyejin in my car. Heeyeon was here with the business school guys but went home to ‘change’ right after the game. She’s meeting us there—Ken’s driving her there. She’ll ride back with us.”

“She was here? I didn’t see her.”

“It’s a big building, Yongsun,” Byulyi coolly responded, her left hand extended.

“You know what I meant.”

Extending her hand, Yongsun swiftly took hold of Byul’s, her phone now tucked away safely into her bag. As it turned out, the drama going on in her messages paled in comparison to the gossip Byulyi couldn’t wait to share. The taller woman babbled on and on about her suspicions around the nature of Heeyeon and Ken’s relationship. Her rant came stocked with all the evidence she’d been taking note of over the past month. There was **a lot** of alleged proof to substantiate her claim that the two were romantically involved. Yongsun listened—because she enjoyed quality gossip as much as anyone else—but couldn’t stop her mind from wandering every so often to the clasped hands hanging casually between them.

It was **so** easy for Byulyi to extend that hand. **So** easy for Yongsun to take it. **So** easy for them to fall into this routine of being physically close and intimate while skirting around the deeper emotional conflicts begging to be addressed.

As calming as it felt to return this sense of normalcy, Yongsun knew that sooner or later, push would come to shove. Not a matter of “if”, but a matter of “when”. And the more she thought about it, there was no “when” that would be the “right” time.

*

“Byul, are you coming out with us tonight? The guys were talking about buying you drinks.”

“Not sure.”

The air in the car felt stale. Heavy. Even as air from outside poured in through the slit in her passenger side window and pelted her face, Yongsun felt no relief. The car was stuffy, and Byulyi’s clipped response to Heeyeon’s question just now confirmed for her that no amount of fresh air would clear away the root of the issue.

If she weren’t so afraid to draw attention to herself, she would have turned to check the back seat to see if Heeyeon had any reaction to the frustration that colored Byulyi’s response. Instead, everyone in the car stayed silent and let the words last spoken marinate.

The time on the dashboard read 12:43 am.

So much changed in the past three hours. Hand-in-hand, Yongsun and Byulyi left the nearly empty gymnasium earlier in high spirits with a silent agreement between them to not let the severity of the discussion-to-come dampen the celebration tonight. The drive to the restaurant in Bucheon was no more than 20 minutes long, but each second was full of love and joy among the four friends. Laughter pinged nonstop around the vehicle’s interior until the young women arrived at their destination and brought their high energy with them into the restaurant.

Dinner was more enjoyable than Yongsun thought it could be. When Byulyi first mentioned dinner with her family, a formal event at the Moon home was what she envisioned. Nothing about Byulyi’s parents gave off that impression, but it’s what she imagined. One of the first things the athlete’s mother told the group when all parties attending convened was how frustrated she was that Byul rejected her idea to cook for everyone at their home, but how grateful she was for that now realizing she wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning up, all her attention could go towards eating and drinking.

With that as the start of the dinner, things flowed naturally. There were good-natured jokes and delicious food that everyone was encouraged to order as much of as they liked—Yongsun hesitated at first, not a fan of Byulyi’s parents having to pay so much for everything, but the athlete reassured her that the restaurant cut the family deal and offered a flat rate because of the occasion. She still didn’t order a lot after learning that, but Byulyi ordered extra food because she insisted that Yongsun would regret it the next day.

The nine of them sat on the floor of the emptied restaurant sharing jokes, stories about Byulyi, and speeches—from Byulyi’s parents and Heeyeon who the SNU crew selected as their representative. The mood was positively charged, re-energizing a very exhausted Yongsun. All in all, it was a good time with good people. Things couldn’t have been better, which is why, looking back on it, she chastised herself for not expecting **something** to derail the evening. And that **something** came in the form of an innocuous question from Byulyi’s mom.

Throughout the evening, everyone splintered into smaller groups, chatting about whatever they pleased. At one point, about 1.5 hours into the dinner, Byul’s mom switched places with her husband so that she was seated directly across from Yongsun who was in the middle of scolding Moonbyul for stealing her food—she wasn’t even eating the food, just taking it from Yongsun’s bowl when she knew Yongsun was looking, then reveling in the whines and overreactions Yongsun offered in return. It was between dramatic cries of annoyance that Park Kyungah intervened and scolded her daughter. That segued into Byul telling her mom “that’s just how we joke around, omma. She knows I’m not serious.” Nonetheless, the older woman apologized on behalf of her daughter before launching into a series of questions about how Yongsun was doing. The young woman answered each question honestly, sharing about the challenging week she just had and what the next few months would look like. It was a light conversation, nothing too nerve-racking. Until the conversation pivoted to Yongsun’s romantic life. Byulyi, who had been an active participant up until then, inserting details Yongsun missed, stayed quiet at her mother’s next question.

_“Your parents must be very proud of you, Yongsun. You’re so well-mannered and pretty.”_

_Face warm, the blonde fussed slightly with the collar of her turtleneck. “Ah, thank you, Auntie. I hope to make them proud, yes.”_

_“Are you still not dating anyone? I remember we discussed this at one of Byulyi’s games before, but I refuse to believe there isn’t anyone trying to get your attention. You’re such a sweet young lady.”_

_A ‘sweet young lady’ wasn’t exactly charting high on the market of what people in their early 20s were looking for, but Yongsun understood the gist of the statement. Byulyi’s mom was probably genuinely curious. Yongsun heard bits of the older woman’s conversations that evening with Wheein, Hyejin, and Heeyeon. They all joked about being single and looking, asking Byul’s mom to keep her eyes open for potential partners for them. And she’d asked Yongsun about it during some of their previous meetings. Yongsun should’ve expected this topic to resurface at some point tonight. _

_But she didn’t and was caught unprepared._

_As she desperately attempted to find her voice, she felt the eyes from beside her boring into her skin. Byulyi was waiting for a response just as eagerly as her mother was._

_“I’m just trying to find a job and finalize where I’ll be living next year, Auntie,” she gave an anxious laugh. Not a lie. Not the full truth, but not a lie. Also, not what Byulyi wanted to hear, because once Yongsun’s sentence concluded, the brunette turned to her right to join in on whatever it was the SNU contingent were discussing._

_If Byul’s mom noticed, she didn’t say anything, continuing instead to pepper Yongsun with questions about her life. And to her own credit, Yongsun answered them all, even with how rattled she was internally at what was likely yet **another** issue between her and the athlete to her right._

That was the turning point. For the remainder of the gathering, Byulyi’s words to her were scarce. Wheein and Hyejin seemed to notice the cold war because after a while, they left their spots at the other half of the table to join Yongsun. The two didn’t even make jokes about why Byulyi wasn’t showering Yongsun with attention—as they usually would—which signaled to the graduate student that they knew far more about the severity of the situation than they were letting on.

And that was that. The mood for the remainder of Yongsun’s evening was set. Time dragged on, forcing her to sit in the mess that she unintentionally made, before, thankfully, it was time to leave. Even that became an internal battle of wanting to do what was most comfortable versus not make the issue bigger than it already was. The closer the five of them got to Byulyi’s car, the heavier Yongsun’s gut weighed. Sitting in the passenger’s seat beside Byulyi on the drive home wasn’t on top of the list of things she wanted to do. It wasn’t on the list at all, actually. But suddenly asking Wheein or Hyejin or Heeyeon to sit up front would raise all types of questions about why she wanted to change the seating arrangement **now** when things were fine on the drive to the restaurant. It wasn’t as if she could outright say “Byulyi’s mad at me because I didn’t tell her mom we’re kind of seeing each other.”

Well, she **could** say that. The other three likely already knew what the deal was. But Byulyi was petty as all hell and, just to spite Yongsun, would probably leave her out to dry by saying something along the lines of, “Who said I was mad at you?”

So she reluctantly sank into the front seat, rested against the headrest, and closed her eyes. There was too much tension and the sleep she missed out on all week came quickly to take hold of her. Who knows what the others chose to do with the uncomfortable atmosphere.

It wasn’t until Wheein and Hyejin were dropped off at their dorm that her eyes were forced open. The third-years wrestled her awake to say their goodbyes before scampering into their building. From there, Heeyeon did her best to fill the silence, but, as was evident by her final query about Byulyi’s plans for the evening, her attempts were futile. Once the car crawled into the UV parking lot and the engine was cut off, Heeyeon made a swift escape, only barely bidding the two a goodnight before closing the vehicle door behind her.

Then there were two.

If possible, the air around them grew even thicker. Her skin itched for her to vacate the car as Heeyeon did moments ago, yet Yongsun stayed put. Seatbelt still securely clasped, head still laid against the now-warm headrest, she sat. Because as much as she didn’t have the energy for confrontation right now, **seeing** and **spending time** with her best friend today was the highlight of her week. Even with all the shit swirling between them, today was the best day she had all week and that was in large part due to being with Byul again. A fight was **not** how their first night back together was supposed to end.

She swallowed the urge to flee and sank further into the discomfort.

Heart racing, fingers clammy, skin buzzing, Yongsun sat there with her eyes closed. This had always simultaneously been the easiest and most difficult relationship she’d ever experienced, but the young woman couldn’t pinpoint when things between her and Byulyi became **this** disjointed. For the past few months, things stopped moving as effortlessly as they once did and began requiring **so** much work.

To Yongsun’s surprise, Byulyi spoke first. “So . . . how are you?”

“Honestly? Tired.” Eyes remained closed. For one, she didn’t want to see what emotions occupied the other woman’s face and, two, Yongsun’s lids grew heavier as she sat with them closed. No energy remained to lift them.

“Mmm. You’ve mentioned how bad your week was a lot tonight.”

“Yeah. I’m kind of surprised I made it through. It felt like time was speeding by, but at the same time, it felt like the days wouldn’t pass.”

There was a brief delay in response, but in time, the words hit the shell of her ears. “For a while, I thought you were avoiding me.” They were softly spoken, but they were spoken.

A deep sigh. “You thought I was lying about having no time this week?”

“Kind of. Not **lying **lying. But . . . yeah. Y’know.”

“Why would I avoid you?”

“I don’t know. Because of Sunday, I guess.” None of the conversation thus far was as confrontational as Yongsun thought it would be. Then again, this wasn’t **the** conversation yet. What happened earlier in the evening was a topic that remained in the queue of things to address before she and Byulyi left the car.

“Mmm.”

“Yeah.”

Now it was Yongsun’s turn to delay a response.

“It was embarrassing, it’s **still** embarrassing, and I can’t say that I’m over it because I’m not, but I haven’t even had time this week to fully think through what happened. I don’t know . . . only time will fix that, I guess. But I wouldn’t purposely ignore you over that. The thought of ignoring you never even crossed my mind. You apologized and I believe that the apology was sincere and that you had no ill intentions. I kind of just have to work through the rest of it on my own.”

“I really am sorry.”

“I believe you.” She did.

The entire thing was uncomfortable, especially because there wasn’t really anything else Byulyi could do for her. The insecurities intricately woven into every fiber of her being could only be undone by her own doing. The woman to her left had, at every chance available, expressed how beautiful and attractive she found Yongsun to be. Byulyi wanted her and she made that clear. The continued feelings of inadequacy, then—sexual and otherwise—were mental blocks Yongsun had to figure out on her own.

“How are you?” Yongsun asked in return.

“Honestly? Tired,” Byulyi parroted Yongsun’s words from minutes ago.

This was a fresh conversation now. That didn’t need to be explained, the same way it didn’t need explaining that the ‘tired’ Moonbyul felt had nothing to do with the basketball game she played earlier or the two classes she was enrolled in. They were now discussing their relationship and what happened at dinner.

“You’re upset.”

“I . . . am. Yeah.” The way she hesitated to admit it hurt more than the actual admission. Honesty was something Yongsun hoped would be automatic between them. Instead, it was becoming more of a challenge each day for them both. “But it feels weird. We kind of agreed this isn’t a friends-with-benefits situation but we never finalized what we’d tell other people. And we definitely didn’t discuss telling our families, so I don’t really have the right to be upset that you didn’t tell my mom—if anything, **I** should be the one telling my mom, that burden shouldn’t be on you and dropping the news suddenly in the middle of a celebration dinner wouldn’t have been the right time anyway—but I’m still upset. It doesn’t really make sense but it’s how I feel, so . . . yeah . . .”

_“Chorong said we shouldn’t call ourselves friends with benefits. She believes ‘it’s complicated’ is more appropriate.”_

_“Do you let all your deepest-held thoughts out during pillow talk? Asking for future reference.”_

_“Shut up! I’m just letting you know in case you’d prefer to call it that.”_

_“If you’re more comfortable with that then we can go with that.”_

_“What about what you want?”_

_“I want you, a relationship, and to tell everyone that we’re together. I have you, and the other two are works in progress. So, whatever this in-between looks like, I’m fine waiting.”_

_“What about when you get tired of waiting?”_

_“‘When’ not ‘if’?”_

_“It’s a valid question, no?”_

_“No, it isn’t,” Byulyi answered immediately and directly._

Valentine’s Day was only two weeks ago. Look how much had changed since then.

Two weeks. Byulyi was tired of waiting.

In actuality, she’d more accurately been waiting for months, if not at least a year. It made sense that she’d be tired. She wouldn’t say it, maybe she didn’t realize it herself yet, but Yongsun realized it. Probably because she expected this each day she woke up still not ready to dive headfirst into a relationship. Expected her best friend to grow tired of being asked for more time and more patience. Because if Yongsun was honest with herself, she was asking **a lot** of the other woman while only giving in return a promise of “one day” being ready. No timeline of an estimated date by which she could commit, just a lofty “one day”. It wasn’t fair to Byulyi, left hanging indefinitely like that.

“I’m not trying to trap you. You can see other people if you want. I think that would only be fair.” It was the last thing Yongsun wanted, but she had no right to demand Byulyi’s full attention while still being unable to commit in the way the athlete asked of her. At some point, she had to give a bit. This was her first attempt at that.

“Why would I see other people?” The hostility took the older woman by surprise.

“I’m not trying to fight, Byul-ah. I’m just saying that if you’re tired of waiting, I understand. I don’t have the right to be upset if you choose to pursue other people you may be interested in or other people that are interested in you.” For the first time since entering the car to drive back to SNU, Yongsun looked over to the driver’s seat and locked eyes with Byulyi. She **hoped** that her face conveyed the sincerity of her words. There was no sarcasm, no “gotcha!” hidden in what she said. She meant it.

“I’m not interested in anyone but you.”

“Don’t sound so sad about it.” Her weak attempt at humor at least pulled a small smile from Byulyi before she sank into her seat and closed her eyes. Yongsun could **feel** how worn out the athlete was, only further exacerbating her sorrow over being the one that caused it.

Moon Byulyi gave much more than any one person should be expected to give so, while Yongsun couldn’t give in the same way, she hoped that her future efforts would show that she wasn’t in this only to take, take, take.

While the other woman continued resting her eyes, Yongsun opened her purse and pulled out her cellphone. The screen’s brightness tried deterring her, but she pushed past its blaring intensity and found the contact she needed.

“Who are you calling?” Byul asked upon hearing the phone’s ringer fill her vehicle’s empty space—Yongsun had put it on speakerphone. Ignoring the question, the graduate student didn’t speak until the person on the other end picked up.

“Unnie?”

“Wheein-ah.”

“Mmm. What’s wrong? Did we forget something in Byul-unnie’s car?”

“Not that I know of,” Yongsun did a cursory scan of the backseat.

“Oh. What’s up then? Why are you calling?”

“Hyejin’s with you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you put the phone on speakerphone so she can hear, too, please?” While Wheein called for Hyejin to meet her, Yongsun sat patiently, all the while ignoring Byulyi’s inquisitive eyes trained on her.

“Unnie. What’s up?” Hyejin asked.

“Oh.” The words were right there but, still, it took Yongsun by surprise that she was actually going to say them. They weren’t the words Byulyi wanted to hear—well, not the **exact** words she wanted to hear—but they were much further on the road to **those** words than any Yongsun had committed to previously. “Just calling to let you two know about me and Byulyi.”

“Oooooo,” the two on the other end of the line chorused. “What about you and Byul-unnie?” That was Wheein.

“We’re . . . seeing each other. As more than friends.”

Holding the cell in her left hand, Yongsun silently screamed into her right as it dawned on her that she said what she just said. Out loud. To other people. It was so . . . ugh! Stressful.

“Is Byul-unnie with you right now?”

“Yeah. You’re on speaker.”

“Unnie, you’re a liar!” Wheein yelled.

“Liar!”

“You lied to us!”

“Told us that the two of you weren’t together.”

“Yongsun-unnie, you lied, too! Just tonight you said there was nothing to tell.”

Explaining everything didn’t make sense, so Yongsun accepted the blame. “Sorry. At least I said I’d tell you if there was something to tell and then I called to tell you.”

“What’s your excuse, Byul-unnie?”

“I . . . don’t have one. I’ll just say that I’m sorry,” Byul spoke up from the driver’s seat, automatically going along with it all.

“Hmm. Well, thank you for calling to tell us. We already knew and didn’t believe either of you when you **lied** to our faces, but thank you for correcting that wrongdoing.”

The younger girls berated the older ones for a bit longer before ending the call.

“So we’re seeing each other? As more than friends?”

“Something like that,” Yongsun jokingly downplayed it.

“Oh, okay.” The streetlights in the parking lot illuminated the darkened interior, one light casting a streak across Byulyi’s face as she lounged in her seat. It allowed Yongsun to see how hard the athlete worked to not let out the smile begging to break free.

“Hey,” Yongsun called. When Byulyi looked over, the blonde unbuckled her seatbelt and reached over to gently hold the younger woman’s chin in her right hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Leaning in, Yongsun gave a chaste peck to Byulyi’s lips. “I missed you.”

“Same.”

“Are you spending the night?”

“I can. If you want.”

“Please?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.” For staying the night. For waiting. For everything.

“You’re welcome.”

One last peck and the two separated, collected their things, and exited Byulyi’s car.

A repeat of earlier, upon circling the vehicle’s rear, Yongsun found fingers awaiting her. Unlike earlier, it likely wasn’t as easy for Byulyi to extend that hand, but she still did.

Just as it wasn’t easy at all for Yongsun to extend herself the way she did on the call with Wheein and Hyejin. But she did, because even when it wasn’t easy for Byulyi to do so, she put herself out there for Yongsun. The least the graduate student could do, she thought, was demonstrate that she was willing to **try **to do the same in return.

In the grand scheme of things, what she did tonight didn’t wasn’t much, but it was something. It was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time is a social construct. So let’s pretend that this past month didn’t happen, yeah?


	50. From: Maybe Eunji

_Hi, Yongsun-ssi. This is Eunji, Chorong-unnie’s sorority sister. I’m texting to apologize for Saturday. It wasn’t my intention to disrespect you in any way. I’m really sorry about that and hope you can find it in yourself to accept my apology._

She read it once. Read it twice. Cleared her eyes of the sleep still lingering there. Chanced a glance up from her screen to make sure that Wheein across from her and Byulyi next to her were still engrossed in their conversation, then read the message a third time.

And **still**, Yongsun had no idea what the fuck Eunji was talking about.

Eyebrows furrowed, the graduate student’s brain rumbled to a start, groaning all the while as she pushed it to its limits by pulling up a comprehensive play-by-play of Saturday’s celebration. The difficulty came not from challenges remembering what happened that day—she was completely sober for the shitshow that was Chorong’s birthday party—but from it currently being so early in the morning.

Well, relatively.

It was a few minutes past 11:00 AM, which was hours later than Yongsun’s days typically started, but being so accustomed this semester to slowly easing into her Mondays—she had no class or work that day—jolting awake for a breakfast she knew nothing about was laborious. No one told her anything, all she knew was that Byul shook her awake half an hour ago with a dry, “_Aren’t you going to get ready for breakfast with Wheein?_”

_“What breakfast with Wheein?” A drowsy Yongsun croaked as she rolled over in Byulyi’s comforter. It didn’t go without notice that the athlete was already fully dressed for the day, now busying herself with packing her royal-blue, SNU-branded Nike bookbag._

_“The breakfast that starts in about 30 minutes,” the asshole announced after checking the time on her phone._

_“No one told me about that,” Yongsun replied dismissively. Already snuggled and comfortable in the sheets, she’d long decided on going back to sleep and leaving Byulyi and Wheein to some alone time. Hyejin had class all day, Yongsun knew. It wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if she bowed out, too._

_“I just told you about it. Get up.”_

_“Leave me alone!” The quiet room was instantaneously filled with Yongsun’s shrieks as Byulyi purposely, playfully, and annoyingly pulled at the sheets and cover wrapped around her. For as much as the younger woman preached their punctuality, she wasted more than enough precious time antagonizing Yongsun. The two bickered for at least five minutes before Byulyi eased up._

_“Yongsun, get up,” Byulyi added some bass to her voice, no doubt an attempt to sound stern, but the poorly concealed smile fixed on her face gave her away._

_“Byul-ah, I’m **tired**.” That was the truth._

_After the hellish week she had last week and the long night out on Saturday, the exhaustion Yongsun swallowed down before came back with a vengeance, gnawing at her very being and settling in her bones. Byulyi, who also went out on Saturday, with her teammates though, suggested the two enjoy a lazy Sunday together at her place, which they did. Save for using the bathroom and eating dinner—they slept through lunch—, Yongsun and Byulyi did not leave the athlete’s oversized bed. Hours were a blur, time fleeting as the young women preoccupied themselves with each other. Lips tenderly grazed above the sheets while, beneath them, legs tangled and pads of fingers cautiously caressed hips, and stomachs, and, and, and. Moments of intimacy morphed into cuddling, then napping. They told stories about their Saturdays and “watched” dramas on Byulyi’s laptop, both pretending to pay attention until one of them caved and initiated more kissing and light touching. All in all, a restful day that reminded them both of the potential they held, the peace and calm that came when things between them were **good**._

_Yongsun hoped that the warmth of the day prior would carry over into Monday, but alas, it was back to reality where sleeping in was nothing but sand slipping between one’s fingers, never firmly within grasp._

_Upon hearing her plea moments ago, Byulyi’s features softened, as did her voice. “Let’s just get breakfast and then you can come back and sleep, okay? We’ll get you a to-go container so you can bring back some food for later. How does that sound?” Standing bedside, the younger woman leaned over, the mattress dipping slightly when she rested her forearms on it, her face hovering not too far from Yongsun’s. “Hmm? Hmm? Hmm?” With each ‘hmm?’ Yongsun smiled as Byulyi drew nearer until finally pressing a chaste kiss to the older’s lips._

_The pattern continued, Byulyi repeatedly asking ‘hmm?’ before leaving a peck on Yongsun’s mouth. It took the blonde back to their earlier days of playfulness with no heaviness hampering things—sans the kissing, of course._

_“I don’t have any clothes,” she thought out loud as Byulyi finally walked away. She arrived at the athlete’s apartment on Sunday morning in her nightgown, sweatpants, and UGG boots, fully prepared for a sleepover._

_“Wear some of mine.” It was stated so casually. _

_Yongsun had a handful of Byulyi’s sweaters at her apartment that she wore, but that was around their **apartments**. Not in public where other people would see. Either Byulyi didn’t realize the larger implications of her words or she didn’t care._

_“None of your clothes fit me,” Yongsun stalled. “I can go to my place and grab something.”_

_“Yongsun, we don’t have time for that. I’ll give you a shirt and a plain hoodie so that no one knows it’s mine.” The older woman’s blood ran cold at the statement, skin warm at the realization that Byulyi knew the true underlying reasons behind her hesitance. “You can borrow a coat, too. The meal with Wheein is only going to last for a couple of hours so you can go and come right back and rest afterward. How does that sound?” Throughout it all, Moonbyul was zipping around her bedroom, collecting this from her desk and grabbing that from her closet, as if she had only mentioned something as innocuous as the weather. The nonchalance about acknowledging what she just acknowledged planted shame in the pit of Yongsun’s stomach. She liked Byulyi a lot, and that was very much an understatement. They were great when it was just the two of them and were fine around their close friends. But something about having strangers involved in their relationship made the graduate student uncomfortable._

_She and Byulyi were still slowly ironing out the many kinks in what they had going, and anxiety welled up at the thought of trekking through all of that messiness, but Yongsun was willing to do it. She **wanted **to do it. What she did not want or need for them was an audience to play everything out in front of. For her, the smartest move was to handle things in-house before making a decision later on how they wanted to let those outside of their intimate circle of friends know what the deal was between them._

_It didn’t mean she was ashamed in any way of Byulyi and it turned her stomach at the possibility of Byulyi ever thinking that._

_“I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I just don’t want people gossiping about us. That’s all.”_

_“I got news for you,” Byul approached the bed once more, “they already do,” she whispered conspiratorially, soft laughter following. “And they say some pretty wild things . . .”_

_They’d been friends for almost two years now. Yongsun assumed there were **some** whispers about her and Byulyi. But she also knew that Byul liked to antagonize her and was possibly hamming things up intentionally._

_She took the bait, nonetheless. “What do people say?”_

_“Don’t worry about it.”_

_“Byul-ah,” Yongsun sat up, her words hitting the other woman’s back as she walked away. “What do people say?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Byulyi. Stop. I hate when you do this.”_

_“They don’t say anything,” Byulyi spoke out as she ruffled through one of her drawers on the opposite side of the room._

_“Byul. You’re pissing me off now.” Honestly, it was probably better off if Yongsun **didn’t **know what types of stories people made up about her, but it irked her beyond belief that Byulyi was being annoying about keeping this secret from her, so now she wanted to know._

_“Okay, okay! I’ll tell you. They say . . . **get dressed and go brush your teeth**!” A blur of grey material briefly entered Yongsun’s line of vision before hitting her face with a thud. A packaged toothbrush landed not too far from her moments later._

_Only one of them considered themselves an athlete, but any witnesses would have given Yongsun credit for her efficient motions as she hopped out of the bed and chased Byulyi down. The younger managed to escape though, exiting the room and holding onto the doorknob, preventing Yongsun from opening the door._

_“You’re an asshole!”_

_“Get dressed!” The muffled words traveled through the door, but the giddiness was impossible to miss._

It pissed her off to do so, but Yongsun eventually gave in and listened to Byulyi’s command—if they were late, Wheein wouldn’t care the reason, she’d be annoyed at the both of them.

Most of the walk over consisted of Yongsun ignoring a faux apologetic Moonbyul, but they made it to the Food Court in decent time, reaching the entrance just as Wheein was arriving. Yongsun grunted a greeting that Wheein laughed at, and from then on, the younger women fell into a conversation of their own. Yonsgun’s plans to eavesdrop and slip into the discussion at an appropriate time were halted, though, because the message from Eunji buzzed against the confines of the sweatshirt Yongsun was now swimming in.

_Hi, Yongsun-ssi. This is Eunji, Chorong-unnie’s sorority sister. I’m texting to apologize for Saturday. It wasn’t my intention to disrespect you in any way. I’m really sorry about that and hope you can find it in yourself to accept my apology._

Nothing special happened on Saturday. Not for Yongsun, at least. From the moment she arrived at the restaurant—not the upscale one owned by Hodong’s brother that their group typically frequented for such celebrations, but one that a sorority sister of Chorong’s secured at the least minute by happening to know someone that knew someone that knew someone happy to do the favor if said sorority sister gave him her number—sloppiness ensued. They were lucky enough to have a section in the back of the establishment to themselves, but it wasn’t the private room she was accustomed to. The group, which had even **more** people than anticipated, started with shots and never stopped. Yongsun, who needed a break from alcohol after her birthday the previous weekend, took it upon herself to coordinate with Insoo on the dishes they should order, but no one else in their immediate group paid the food much mind other than the two of them— Chorong’s friends preferred drinking; Hodong and Changsub reveled in the rare occurrence of being surrounded by more women than men.

There were seriously **so** many of Chorong’s sorors. Fifteen to be exact. And with some of them ignoring Insoo’s explicit ask to **not** bring additional people, they and their acquaintances accounted for almost 70% of the party. This was, of course, before some of them roamed the restaurant, mingling and returning with random men and women that were all too happy to poach free food and drinks. It was . . . an event. One that Yongsun gladly stayed out of the way to watch.

Being sober during a party of that nature was an experience. Comfortable in one of the corners, the graduate student ate and people-watched, dancing in her seat when the restaurant’s sound system sometimes broke through the wall of conversations that wafted throughout the packed establishment. She occasionally left her spot when Chorong would animatedly call her over to make an introduction to people from her past, but for the most part Yongsun didn’t venture too far, socializing only with whichever partygoers would stumble over.

About an hour into the “dinner”, Jinyoung showed up. He made his way through the ever-growing crowd, greeting people here and there before noticing Yongsun in the corner and parked himself next to her. From what he told her, he was the designated driver for Changsub and Hodong and, thus, would not be drinking. Insoo was busy keeping tabs on Chorong so Jinyoung was the only other sober person Yongsun knew. She welcomed the company.

That was how the rest of her evening went.

Given their history, Yongsun regarded Jinyoung as more an acquaintance than anything else, but that night, they forged a tenuous friendship. Their limited encounters since breaking up always felt to her like drinking a thick milkshake through a cocktail straw—difficult to get through. A strain. Unnecessary.

But that night was different. Jinyoung was **fun** and **funny**! If Yongsun reached far back enough into the recesses of her mind, she was certain she could find other instances of him being enjoyable. It was just that that felt like eons ago. So much between those pleasant memories and Saturday clogged her brain with stilted impressions of her ex, but their time together that night reminded her that he was a good guy.

They sat together, a respectable distance apart, talking and judging everyone else for most of the night. And there was **plenty** to judge. Several people—Changsub among them—sneaking off with someone in tow to “get some air”, drinking games, harmless, but **loud** arguments about what **actually** happened years ago during rush period and why one of the sorors present almost got dropped. A cacophony of high-pitched voices competing for the crown of most high-pitched. Just . . . a lot going on.

There came a point in the evening where she and Jinyoung separated for a while. Yongsun didn’t worry herself with paying attention to where he went and why, too concentrated on safely making it through the mass of flailing arms so that she could pass on the birthday wishes that Byulyi texted. Chorong’s birthday wasn’t until Wednesday, but the athlete seemed to have a better understanding of Chorong by now and knew the “birthday girl” would expect well-wishes that weekend, Wednesday—her actual birthday—, **and** the following weekend when she had additional celebrations planned.

Chorong made a show about “her girl” wishing her happy birthday before obnoxiously bragging about Byulyi’s athletic achievements to everyone clustered around her. That inevitably devolved into a discussion among those present on how Chorong couldn’t mean “the” Moon Byulyi because “that” Moon Byulyi was this, that, and the third. Yongsun stayed around only long enough for her roommate to clarify that she did, in fact, mean “the” **and** “that” Moon Byulyi. _“She’s clean,” _Chorong declared with conviction, sounding far from the intoxicated mess she actually was. No one dared to challenge her on that, the conversation moving on to more trivial topics afterward. Yongsun moved on, too. The blonde returned to her “spot”, enjoying the continued chaos on her own for another 10 minutes before Jinyoung returned.

That was Yongsun’s Saturday. Enjoyable and, against all reason, calm.

Before the party, Chorong showed Yongsun pictures of a select few sorority sisters, Eunji included. As such, Yongsun knew going into things what Chorong’s friend looked like, but other than seeing the younger woman milling around the restaurant with friends, she did not interact with Eunji. It was still confusing, then, to have received such an overwhelmingly apologetic text message at 11:00 AM.

“Hey,” Byulyi gently nudged Yongsun’s right shoulder with her own. “You okay?”

The graduate student slowly looked up from her phone, mind still on the message but mouth moving automatically to reassure the woman beside her. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Yongsun managed a smile.

“The two of you are cute but please don’t flirt while I’m around.”

“We’re not flirting, Wheein. Shut up,” Byulyi laughed, shaking her head gently. “Yong, I’m about to order our food. What do you want?”

“Anything good.” Byul knew her taste.

“Cool. I’ll be back.”

A silence settled around her and Wheein as Moonbyul departed, one Yongsun didn’t mind at all. It gave her more time to process what Eunji could have possibly been alluding to.

“You guys are cute,” Wheein blurted out suddenly, eyes trained in Byulyi’s direction. She’d probably been waiting for the athlete to be out of hearing distance.

“What are you talking about?” Nothing worthy of such gushing had happened.

“You and Byul-unnie. She’s so protective of you. The way she **had** to check in to make sure you were okay, **even though** I wasn’t finished talking when she tuned out, but it’s fine. It was cute.”

“Oh. Okay.” The tone of her voice was more stoic than intended, but it was due more to wanting to send a message to Chorong as soon as possible than it was to dismiss what Wheein was saying.

“Omg! And that! The way you act like you don’t like her but it’s so obvious that you do. It’s so cute!”

Since when did she act like she didn’t like Byulyi? “I literally told you that we’re seeing each other. Obviously I like her.” **Obviously **she liked Byulyi.

“As more than friends.”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t say ‘you’re seeing each other’, you said that you’re ‘seeing each other as more than friends’, which is an extremely convoluted way of saying that the two of you are girlfriends. Very on-brand of you.”

“Wait, what? We’re not girlfriends, Wheein.”

“So you’re what? Dating?”

“I . . . don’t know. We’re just . . . seeing each other.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah . . .”

“Hyejin and I thought you were just making it sound complicated because you sometimes do that. But it’s actually . . . complicated.”

“Yeah . . .”

The Food Court tables were sparsely populated, but even the minimal chatter from those spread throughout the space began to infiltrate the stilted silence that joined her and Wheein at the table. There was a lot to sift through in what the younger had said, but Yongsun had no idea where to start. Fingers raking through her shoulder-length strands of milk chocolate hair, Wheein didn’t seem any more eager to plunge deeper into the murky waters she’d happened upon.

“I don’t know what to say right now, but I want to acknowledge the awkwardness. So . . . that was me acknowledging it.”

“Noted,” Yongsun chuckled. There. They nipped it in the bud.

“I don’t understand though!”

It **wasn’t** nipped in the bud, then.

“What don’t you understand?” Hearing it out loud, this **did** sound more confusing than Yongsun initially thought. And her relationship with Moonbyul **did** affect Wheein and Hyejin, too. She at least owed Wheein the courtesy of making things clearer than they currently were.

“Byul-unnie **likes** you. A lot. She’s in there getting your food as we speak.”

“She’s getting your food, too.”

“That’s not the point.” She was right. That was not the point. “She cares a lot about you and even though you do the understated feelings thing, we see that you like her, too. Both of you confessed. The two of you dating is the most obvious thing ever. What’s the holdup?”

“I’m the holdup,” Yongsun admitted. The way Wheein discussed them made it sound like she and Byulyi being in a romantic relationship—an official one, with the labels Byulyi wanted, and none of the roundabout language—was a foregone conclusion. And maybe they were, but there was a lot more beneath the surface than met the naked eye. She felt it her responsibility to smash the rose-colored glasses Wheein viewed them through. “I don’t know,” she fiddled with the sweatshirt sleeves that engulfed her hands, “when we first admitted our feelings, it felt heavy. Too much to take on to jump into a relationship **that** big. I knew for sure that I wasn’t ready for that. Now, the thought of it doesn’t feel as heavy, but it still doesn’t feel light either. So I’m just trying to figure out what that means.”

“Have yo–”

The courage the graduate student needed to share what she did came from avoiding eye contact with her younger friend. After saying what she needed to say, her gaze remained trained on the sleeves she continued to pick at. At the abrupt pause in Wheein’s statement, though, she looked up and followed the other’s line of vision.

Byulyi.

“Okay!” The athlete gently slid the tray of food in her hands onto the table. “Here’s the first batch of food. Yongsun, don’t hate me, it’s for Wheein. Yours wasn’t ready yet but it should be done in a few minutes. I’m gonna check on it now. Why are you two so quiet? Were you talking about me?”

“Contrary to what people at this school tell you, you are not the center of the world, unnie.”

“Actually, I have evidence that says otherwise.”

Although an inopportune moment to interrupt the discussion, Byulyi’s banter with Wheein granted Yongsun the time needed to finally fire off the text she’d been contemplating since receiving Eunji’s.

**To: Rongie**

Eunji texted me. How and why? _11:23 AM_

Chorong had a 3.5-hour class that started at 10:00 AM on Mondays—she’d be itching for a distraction.

**From: Rongie**

How: gave her your number.

Why: ask her. _11:23 AM_

**To: Rongie**

“gave her your number”—why?

“ask her”—I’m asking you! _11:23 AM_

**From: Rongie**

Yongsun, I’m in class! _11:23 AM_

**To: Rongie**

Spare me. Hurry up and explain, I don’t have much time. _11:24 AM_

**From: Rongie**

🙄

She was worried that you were upset w/ her. Didn’t tell me why.

I’m not you. I can’t speak for you. Only you can speak for you.

I gave her your number so that she could talk to *you*. _11:24 AM_

**To: Rongie**

Why would I be upset w/ her?

She and I didn’t talk at your dinner party. _11:25 AM_

That was as far in the conversation as Yongsun got before needing to pay attention to her friends’ back-and-forth.

“Good**bye**, unnie. Thank you for the food. You can leave now.”

“Yongsun, teach the little one some manners, please.” And with that, Byulyi was off. Yongsun watched the athlete retreat, not surprised at all when she stopped to greet a few people at a table that had recently been filled, only to sit down moments later. At least it bought Yongsun and Wheein more time to finish their talk.

“Byul-unnie’s ridiculous,” Wheein giggled, still reminiscing, it seemed, on their bickering. Her eagle eyes were promptly averted to her tray but despite having the food in front of her and eyeing it down, the third-year made no moves to begin eating.

“Wheein-ah, you have class later, please eat. You don’t have to wait for me. My food will be here soon.”

“Thank you for saying that because I’m **really** hungry right now.”

As Wheein dug into her meal, Yongsun snuck a glance at the phone she’d tucked back into the front pocket of Byulyi’s sweatshirt she was wearing—no response from Chorong.

“What I was going to ask before unnie came back: have you talked to her about what you told me?”

“Yeah, for the most part. I’ve been upfront about needing time to work through things.”

“That’s good. Communication is important.” Her voice resembled that of an elementary school teacher affirming toddlers for cleaning up after themselves.

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Wheein-ah. Can we change the topic, please?” Yongsun groaned, instinctively yanking the strings hanging near her neck until the oversized hood on her head tightened around her rounded face.

“Cute,” Wheein fawned over the melodramatic reaction. “But fine, how was Chorong-unnie’s party?”

Yongsun dropped her antics to divulge everything except the morning’s yet-to-be-explained message from Eunji.

“Ugh, I wish I was there. Sounds like it was a good time. Hyejin and I went out but the people we hung out with weren’t as fun as we hoped they’d be. But it was some guy trying to get close to Hyejin that invited us out so I should’ve known it wouldn’t be the fun. He’s so . . . eh.” At that, the younger woman’s features soured, face puckered.

“Then why did the two of you go?”

“We were bored! He’d been inviting Hyejin out for weeks now and she never took him up on it. I convinced her to say yes this time so we could get free stuff but by the sound of it, we could’ve crashed Chorong-unnie’s dinner, gotten free stuff, **and** had fun.”

“You also could’ve crashed Byulyi’s outing with her teammates and gotten free stuff.”

“Unnie, please, don’t rub it in. I wasn’t thinking properly. We all have our moments okay. **But!** Speaking of ‘eh’ guys, Jinyoung-oppa is back in the picture?” Wheein circled back to Yongsun’s Saturday out. “He’s not ‘eh’ but I’m so used to Byul-unnie calling him that that he came to mind.

“Absolutely not.”

“The two of you sounded chummy. And he drove you home. Someone may be trying to get a second chance.”

“Ew. No.”

“I don’t know . . . does he know about your . . . thing with Byulyi-unnie?”

“No. No one except our roommates and you and Hyejin knows. Well, Taecyeon kind of knows—we talk about everything while we exercise; it helps ease the pain and pass the time. But yeah, we haven’t told more people yet. Just those really close.”

“I love being a VIP. That aside though, he’s definitely trying to push up on you. Since breaking up, has he asked about your love life?”

Her birthday. He definitely did ask if she was seeing anyone. And she dodged it the same way she dodged the same question from Byulyi’s mother.

Damn.

The awkward encounter must have been stuffed away to make room for the unpleasant experiences of the jam-packed week that followed.

“That silence means I’m right! Omg, he’s trying to get back with you. Does Byul-unnie know you were with him on Saturday?”

“Of course she knows, Wheein. I’m not that dumb.”

“I mean, with Seungyeon-unnie . . .”

“Anymore! I’m not that dumb anymore. And Byulyi and I are in a different place now than when all the Seungyeon stuff was happening. But yeah, I told her. We texted throughout the night, so I mentioned that I was mostly hanging with Jinyoung and that he offered me a ride home—Insoo took Chorong to his place and everyone else was drunk so there weren’t many options. She agreed that was the best option. Then she and I spent yesterday together and I told her more about everything. She knows.”

“And she didn’t throw a fit? The two of you didn’t fight about it? Maybe you guys are more ready for a relationship than you think,” the younger laughed at her own joke.

“Maybe.”

Comfortable with letting the conversation rest, Yongsun opened her messages once more. Still no reply from Chorong which, what the hell? Of all moments to be studious, her roommate **would** choose this one. Swiping and tapping where needed, the blonde once more opened Eunji’s text. She was in the middle of crafting a mental response when Byulyi arrived with their food.

“I got this for you,” she pointed at one of the dishes on the tray, “and this for me,” Byulyi pointed to the other, “but then I remembered that we both like each of these, so we can share them. Cool?”

“Very cool. Thanks, Byul-ah,” she smiled genuinely. The term slipped out but Yongsun decided she wasn’t uncomfortable with it. It was an appropriate level of affection while they were in public.

The remainder of the meal passed by before Yongsun realized, ending with each woman going her own way. Wheein had class, Byulyi went to train, and Yongsun trekked back to UV, already imagining the joy that would consume her upon jumping into her bed and sleeping for the rest of the day.

It was when her body was wrapped in the sheets she longed for, and her head kissed the surface of a recently laundered pillowcase that the blonde’s cellphone buzzed beside her.

Whoever it was had plenty of time beforehand to contact her. But no. The highlight of her day **had** to be interrupted.

Rolling over with a groan, the graduate student saw who the notification was from and groaned again.

**From: Rongie**

Voice message: K. Messaged her for more details—you’re welcome btw. At some point in the night, she and Jinyoung were talking for a little. They know each other from SNU days (duh) but were never close. At all. She kind of had a crush on him back then (not duh, you wouldn’t know that) but she never publicized it, so I assumed she got over it. Long story short, she was **not** over it. They exchanged numbers. Then she realized you and Jinyoung had been together all night (explain yourself) and found out the two of you left together (**explain yourself!**) so she assumed you were dating him and felt bad about things. Hence the apology.

Just like that, Yongsun was robbed of the peace that, moments ago, was within grasp. She still fell asleep—her body demanded rest—but it didn’t feel as glorious as it would have if she’d minded her business and simply sent Eunji an “apology accepted” text the **instant** the younger woman’s message hit her inbox that morning. Yongsun really should have left things at that because, honestly, she would’ve been better off not knowing **any** of what her roommate just dumped on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> María is a beautiful album. Still listening to it on repeat.


	51. The Talk, Pt. 2: Not an Issue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to say much because the chapter is already too long. Chapter 50 and Chapter 51 happen within the same week (Chapter 50 is a Monday, Chapter 51 starts on Tuesday). Seeing as it’s been a while since 50 was posted, my only ask is to take some time to go back as many chapters as you need to get back into a comfortable groove with this story.
> 
> Songs that helped me write this chapter:  
\- Break My Heart – Dua Lipa  
\- Velvet/Jenny Francis (Interlude) – Stormzy  
\- Lovesick – Banks  
\- LIKE IT – Amaarae  
\- Bittersweet – Lianne La Havas  
\- Almost Doesn’t Count – Brandy  
\- Ungodly Hour – Chloe x Halle

“Keep your hands **up**!”

The session’s repetitive motions finally caught up to Byulyi. Her shoulders ached from shooting as many shots as she had over the past hour, a dull burning coursing through her thighs each time she pushed off the balls of her feet. It was partially offset, though, by the satisfaction rippling through her as the basketball, time and time again, zipped silently through the net.

Coach Do made sure to strip even that sliver of joy away, though, barking out command after command each time the athlete landed.

“Back straight.”

“Go up and down. Stop wasting movement.”

“Square your hips!”

“**Jump**, Byulyi!”

To her credit, Byulyi took each of them in stride, making the called-for adjustments without interrupting her streak of shots. No complaining about being tired, not a word about being sore, nothing. She took the critiques and focused because, if there were **ever** a week for focusing, it was this one.

The team had the day off. With their Conference Tournament starting on Thursday, the coaching and training staff agreed that a day of rest would do everyone well. The team’s stellar performance over the past few months strengthened the adults’ confidence in their squad’s ability to seamlessly jump back into things on Wednesday. They emailed scouting reports to everyone and offered optional office hours today, but no one was required to work out. In fact, Coach Ok strongly encouraged the players to avoid all strenuous physical activity.

Yet here Byulyi was. On the court. Not avoiding strenuous physical activity.

And here Coach Do was. Assisting her in not avoiding strenuous physical activity.

It took a bit of convincing to get the assistant coach to facilitate this workout—and a “bit” of convincing meant a very tiny amount. The young coach was easily swayed by Byulyi’s line of reasoning when the athlete cited her time off due to injury as justification for why she of all people needed the day.

_“I was off for a couple months, Coach,” she whined, “I need to stay sharp. Especially with our **guests** coming on Wednesday.”_

_“Fine. No more than an hour and a half. We’ll focus on shooting and ball handling.”_

_“That works!”_

It was why she didn’t dare speak in the face of so many corrections. Coach Do was doing her a favor. **And** the older woman had a level of expertise Byulyi aspired to one day have—she **knew** basketball. As such, whatever Coach Do asked for, Byulyi fought against the fatigue setting in to deliver.

The fatigue was starting to best her though. After Byulyi put up five more shots, her coach stoically shut off the automated shooting machine.

“Byul. How tall are you?”

Trying to catch her breath with hands clasped behind her head, the athlete said nothing, unsure if an actual answer was what her coach wanted.

“That wasn’t rhetorical,” Coach Do prodded while toying with her cellphone.

“Around 172 cm,” Byulyi spoke up, making sure to do so loudly and clearly.

“And there are players in our conference that are significantly taller than that 172 cm.” No sarcastic remark about Byulyi’s inflated reporting of height meant the woman was fully in coach-mode. “You do well because you’re more skilled than they are and because you’re more athletic than they are. When you go overseas, that won’t be the case—there are women 190 cm that can move as quickly as you can, if not quicker. And I know you’ll be training over the summer to prepare—at least, that’s what I’m assuming you’ll do—but there are small things you can do **now** to rid yourself of bad habits. Like catching the ball **higher** while you’re tired! The last 10 shots were lazy. I told you to catch it higher, you did that for a few shots then went back to receiving the ball low. Keep doing that and they’ll eat you up in the pros, Byulyi, I promise you they will. You’ll ride the bench, and that team isn’t paying all that money for a benchwarmer. They want **at least** a solid backup point guard.”

“Sorry.” What more was there to say? Coach Do played overseas for a few years. She knew what life as a professional athlete looked like and understood the rigors of the day-in and day-out. Byulyi had no choice but to believe the assessment given. Of course, it didn’t make her feel any better that a lot of what her coach pointed out mirrored her own concerns.

Caught up in SNU’s current season and championship hunt, the senior didn’t talk much about what loomed around the quickly-approaching corner, but each time she thought about becoming a professional athlete, apprehension bubbled within. A significant part of her was afraid that she didn’t have what it took to succeed on **that** high a level.

But those thoughts were best tucked away to be dealt with at another time.

With bated breath, Byulyi waited as Coach Do looked after her appraisingly, eventually sighing and shaking her head. “Let’s finish on 50 shots made, 10 each spot. Catch the ball higher and pay attention on the wings. Your shot percentages are the lowest there,” she motioned to the shot chart on her cellphone screen. “Cool down on the bike afterward and we’ll talk more then.”

Both women were quiet after that, which was a good sign for Byulyi. It meant Coach Do couldn’t find as much fault with her performance. Thank goodness.

*

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“You already know the plan for the tomorrow,” Byulyi casually remarked, her pedaling never ceasing. Talking to her coach this freely was only an option once more because she got her act together at the end of their workout and wormed her way back into the older woman’s good graces. Of all the assistant coaches, Coach Do was the most laid back, a surprise to any of the team’s new players given her veteran status on staff. She was second-in-command after the head coach but allowed jokes and a certain level of informal talk. Only when she was in a good mood though.

“I was going to curse at you but then I remembered you’re about to be paid big money. I need to be nice so that you donate to the program once you graduate.”

“It wasn’t very nice when you were yelling at me earlier.”

“That was understandable. You were shooting like an asshole.”

“Coach!” Byulyi halted her cycling to grin in disbelief.

“What? I’m telling the truth,” she responded matter-of-factly. “But about tomorrow. Coach Ok gave me a general overview. What are the details?”

The Conference Tournament wasn’t the only major event this week that Byulyi had to prepare for. Her deal with Nike was moving forward full steam ahead. The list of athletes for the company’s _South Korea: On the Rise _campaign had been finalized, Byulyi among them. As such, a small production crew was visiting SNU tomorrow to interview Byulyi on her athletic career—past, present, and future. They would also attend the team’s practice and their tournament games on Thursday, Friday, and Sunday to capture footage of her in her element.

Never having participated in something of this magnitude before, the senior didn’t realize it was an occasion that warranted any fanfare. She quickly learned otherwise. The campaign’s PD coordinated practice times with her head coach who, when asked for ideal locations to shoot the interview portion of things, put the man in contact with the athletic department’s Communications team. News spread from there and now, for whatever reason, the Athletic Director inserted himself into things, planning to personally greet the Nike crew and requesting that the school put together their own separate film crew to shoot and edit a behind-the-scenes video to be released after the Nike profile went public.

Byulyi had no idea how something as simple as ‘an interview and a few clips of practice and games’ turned into such a spectacle. She was hoping her coach had an idea of where things took a dramatic turn for the worst.

“You know how the AD is.”

“I was hoping to do the interview somewhere relaxed like the new Student-Athlete Lounge. That would’ve been cool. Now I have to do it in one of the stuffy rooms in his office-suite.”

“The man is an expert at making everything about him. It’s best not to worry about it. What’s done is done.”

“But it’s not right.” Byulyi offered an awkward chuckle but internally, feelings of annoyance built up as she discussed the situation again—she and Yongsun discussed it the night before. None of this had anything to do with anyone other than her and her team. All these other people getting involved was pissing her off.

“Look. There’s nothing you can do about it, Byulyi. Aren’t you studying business? These are the politics of business. And it’s just the beginning. There’ll be many more situations where not everything will go as you want. The AD sticking his nose in this is annoying, yes, but at least you have somewhere to do your interview. **And** he’ll probably go all out and buy refreshments for you and the crew. So, in the end, you didn’t have to fuss over the logistics of finding a location and you’re getting free food out of it. It could be worse.”

“That’s funny,” Byulyi spoke as she continued pedaling, “my best friend said something similar when I talked to her about this.”

“Your best friend, huh?” Eyebrows playfully wagging while speaking, the implication in her coach’s voice was clear.

“Stop,” the athlete mumbled through a bashful grin.

“Do I get to meet this ‘best friend’?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re annoying.” She was even starting to talk like Yongsun now.

“**I’m** annoying? Have you met yourself? I’m surprised that young lady is willingly entertaining your nonsense.”

“You want me to donate to the program **and** you want me to introduce you to my inner-circle, yet you continue making jokes at my expense. . . . I think I’ll pass on both until you get your act together, Coach.”

“Mmhmm. Just make sure you have **your** act together. On **and** off the court. I attended SNU once, I know what goes on. I know what you athletes are like.”

How this somehow turned into an indirect conversation about Byulyi’s love life, she didn’t know, but anything was possible when with Coach Do. The two spent **a lot **of time together over the years, resulting in a closer coach-athlete relationship than most others. Admittedly, it felt great to so freely joke about and discuss her relationship with Yongsun without having to go into any of the complicated details about the relationship. Anything said here and now would stay between the two of them.

“It’s not like that. I’m good to her. Or, I try to be, at least.” The confession was a shy one, eyes trained on the stationary bike’s handlebars. Saying something that cheesy was embarrassing.

“That’s cute. Continue doing that,” Byulyi’s coach responded sincerely. Checking her phone once more she cut the conversation short. Okay, I have responsibilities to get to. Finish your cooldown and then go to the trainer’s room.”

“Will do. Thanks for today.”

“Yeah, yeah. Make sure to get rest tonight. We’ll all do our best to make you look good in front of the cameras tomorrow,” she winked.

*

“Her shot is so weird.”

“Call it what it is—it’s ugly.”

“She shoots a higher percentage than you! Maybe you should be taking notes.”

“No, thank you. I’d rather choke.”

“I’d rather you choke, too.”

“Whatever.”

“She’s a starter, you ride the bench.”

“I got playing time today, thank you very much.”

“You got a few minutes because we won in a blowout. So, again, I say: weird shot and all, she’s a starter, you ride the bench.”

“Anyone riding the bench at SNU would be a starter anywhere else.”

“Byul-unnie!”

“Hmm?” The senior absentmindedly responded, eyes still on her phone. Her teammates’ banter had been nothing but dull background noise to her for the last few minutes.

“Please teach this first-year some humility. She’s getting a little too full of herself.”

“Mmm. Soojin-ah, you should listen to Haesoo,” Byulyi immediately sided with the oldest among the group arguing. The captain understood why Soojin was being as braggadocious as she was—this was her first college basketball tournament of importance and, after finally being given minutes, the young athlete was still full of adrenaline. Byulyi understood but was in the middle of figuring out how to convince Yongsun to make the trip from the other end of campus to come meet her—mediating this petty argument wasn’t too high up on her list right now. Haesoo could handle it.

SNU kicked off its Conference Tournament with a thorough thrashing of Soongsil University. By the third quarter, Coach Ok pulled the starters, Byulyi among them, allowing the younger players to get in-game experience. Since then, members of their team were camped out in a section of the audience, gossiping, bickering, and ‘scouting’ the other teams’ games. Having played each of these teams several times throughout the season, each player should have been well-versed in the schemes and strategies the other teams leaned on, but it was always fun finally having the opportunity to be spectators. Then again, they could lounge around for as long as they wanted because the entire team received passes excusing them from attending all of their classes on Thursday and Friday. A few of them decided to go to class anyway, but most of them gladly parked themselves in the arena seats to avoid their academic responsibilities. If asked, the younger players would say they were following the example of their captain. Byulyi had both of her classes today. She attended neither, opting instead to spend the past three and a half hours doing nothing but stalling. Yongsun was busy at her job since early in the morning and went to hang out with some of her graduate school classmates afterward. Byulyi was simply biding her time until her best friend was done so that the two could spend time together.

**To: Yong**

So . . . having fun? _6:04 pm_

**From: Yong**

Byul-ah. This is like the 5th time you’ve asked in the past hour 😩 _6:06 pm_

**To: Yong**

Just making sure you’re good. _6:06 pm_

**From: Yong**

You’re checking to see when I’m leaving. _6:09 pm_

**To: Yong**

And that. _6:09 pm_

**From: Yong**

😩

We’re packing up now. You’re still at the gym? _6:15 pm_

**To: Yong**

Yes. You should come. _6:15 pm_

**From: Yong**

That’s on the opposite end of campus 😩

Can’t we just meet at UV? _6:20 pm_

**To: Yong**

Or we could meet here and walk to UV together . . . _6:20 pm_

**From: Yong**

Byul-ah 😩 _6:23 pm_

**To: Yong**

Yongsun 🥺👉👈

(and stop using that emoji) _6:23 pm_

**From: Yong**

How about this one: 🖕 _6:25 pm_

**To: Yong**

I love when you get feisty 🤤

See you soon 😍 _6:25 pm_

“Unnie, why are you smiling at your phone?”

And just like that, Byulyi became the team’s new target. Judging by the nonsense they’d been squabbling over for the last half hour, the ongoing game was doing very little to hold their interest and attention. Like moths to a flame, the horde flocked to their captain in hopes of extracting even the tiniest bit of gossip.

“Talking to your girlfriend?” One of the second-years scooted over a few seats to whisper—the audience around them were fans of the other teams in the tournament. The last thing anyone needed was one of them overhearing this conversation and Byulyi appreciated the discretion with which her teammate operated. Her sexuality, and the sexuality of some of her teammates, was common knowledge among the circles she ran in, but she didn’t need or want non-SNU strangers part of the conversation.

“Which one?” Soojin huddled close.

“Which one? What’s that supposed to mean?” The senior took offence.

“Obviously wifey,” the original instigator ignored Byulyi’s question altogether while clarifying for Soojin.

“Not that obvious. Some of the volleyball girls were saying that unnie had something with their captain on the low low. I assumed you all just hadn’t updated me on the current state of her affairs since I’m a first-year.”

“The current state of my affai–”

“We talked about it yesterday after practice!” Another teammate rushed in with a harsh whisper. “Wifey is the only one right now.”

“You all should put this energy into your studies and not my love life,” the captain wrested control of the conversation. If her teammates were saying this, the chat about her among the greater student population must have been even more sensationalized.

“When our studies are as interesting as your love life, we’ll focus harder.”

“Oh!” Soojin startled everyone with her sudden outburst. “Is that why you’re wearing your shorts shorter now, unnie?”

Before she could get a word in edgewise, another teammate responded. “Okay, I noticed the same thing but didn’t want to say it.”

“My shorts are the same lengt–”

“Aww, she’s showing off for her girl. That’s so cute. And the bracelet she never takes off, I think it’s a couple item.” They were pretty close to the truth with that one. Moonbyul stayed quiet at that.

“Wifey **does** have a similar one in her pictures.”

“Wait, I’ve never seen her. Show me!”

“You’ve never seen her? Seriously? Let me show you her Instagram.”

“Get your last looks in now. I’ll let her know she needs to make her socials private,” Byulyi piped up. It was said in jest, but another part of her was disappointed that she hadn’t previously thought about that. Her teammates knowing Yongsun was inevitable. Their ‘wifey’ jokes didn’t bother her but the senior also knew that many others outside of her team had an equal, if not stronger, level of interest in unearthing ‘the truth’ about her and Yongsun. It probably didn’t take much, either, to find the graduate student’s social media accounts given how often Byulyi was underneath Yongsun’s posts purposely badgering her best friend.

“Look at how she’s protecting her! You’re such a romantic, unnie.”

**From: Yong**

Outside 🙄 _6:50 pm_

**To: Yong**

I’ll be right out. _6:50 pm_

Something about having one’s life scrutinized really helped time fly by.

“You all **need** to get lives. Please. I highly recommend it.”

“You’re leaving?” One wondered aloud as Byulyi stood to put on her outerwear and collect her bookbag.

“How’d you guess?” She sassed, a wry smile decorating the lower half of her face.

“Tell her we say ‘hi’.”

“And that she should come to our game tomorrow.”

“Who says I’m meeting with anyone? I **could** just be tired and going home to sleep.”

“Sleep. Sure. Have fun with that.” The infectious laughter from one quickly spread to the number of teammates in the immediate vicinity.

“I’m too good to all of you. If I were stricter, you wouldn’t feel comfortable disrespecting me like this.”

“Goodnight, unnie! We love you. ‘Rest’ well tonight,” Soojin made air quotations with her still-taped fingers.

Maybe Haesoo was right—this first-year was more of a thorn in her side than Byulyi initially thought.

*

“You look like shit.”

“I miss her and this is how she greets me,” Byulyi jokingly rolled her eyes while adjusting the strap of the bag rubbing uncomfortably against her shoulder. On the outside, she hammed up the playfulness but internally, with every step that brought her closer to the blonde she’d been itching to see, her insides flipped with excitement.

“Want me to hold your bag for you?” It seemed her minor discomfort didn’t go unnoticed. Byulyi quickly waved Yongsun’s offer off, freeing the graduate student up to resume her verbal attack. “You always tell me I ‘look tired’ and now that I say the same to you, you’re being sensitive. Typical jock behavior,” she scoffed while standing from the royal blue wooden bench outside the arena’s entrance.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. ‘You look tired’ means just that, it doesn’t mean you look bad.”

“Ask anyone. ‘You look tired’ never means anything positive. It is a nicer way of saying someone looks like shit.”

“Oh. Well . . . I always meant it positively. You always look cute to me.”

The last sentence was softer and more muted than the rest. It jumped out before any filter screened it and only halfway through did Byulyi catch hold of what she was saying. Not that she was shy about showering Yongsun with compliments, but this wasn’t really the moment for that. Not because they were in the middle of an athletic complex littered with basketball fans, not because of anything negative. It was actually that she and Yongsun finally found their footing again and were in a relatively good place that Byulyi regretted her words.

Two weeks ago, they were fine. Doing well. Then Yongsun’s birthday happened and the sex fiasco occurred. Coupled with the week that followed—characterized by a very real physical separation, and a potentially imagined emotional distancing between them—things no longer felt as fine. The overanalyzing her every action, the second-guessing how truthful Yongsun was being about her busyness, all the other harrowing thoughts and feelings that plagued Byulyi last week, it was no exaggeration to say that was the most unsure she’d ever been about the situationship they had going. Each time Yongsun’s contact popped up on her phone, Byulyi half expected it to be the graduate student calling or texting to say she didn’t want to do this anymore. It was miserable.

Now, one week later, a complete 180°. The pair’s moment(s) of static after Senior Night on Friday birthed a new sense of stability in their relationship. Since her ‘confession’ to Wheein and Hyejin, the air around Yongsun seemed less turbulent. She seemed to have settled into her and Byulyi. It was hard to explain. Yongsun’s actions weren’t any different and their conversations, once more, returned to their unique balance of openness, honesty, and playfulness, but there was something **more**, too, that Byulyi noticed. The pair fell back into a routine that objectively resembled that of a romantic couple. Yongsun didn’t seem to notice it at all. After the week of not seeing each other, they spent Sunday together at Byulyi’s place reclaiming the comfort and easiness of being together. Eating. Sleeping. Talking. Not talking. Caressing. Kissing. Reconnecting. Healing.

Byulyi was eager, **grateful** to once again be so close to her best friend and she let it be known through busy hands and hopeful lips. Not once did Yongsun cringe at her excitement or clinginess. There were no forced sarcastic comments meant to dispel the moments of sentimentality either. Instead, the older reciprocated wholeheartedly without hesitation. That was new.

Even newer was the way Yongsun initiated communication more often. Wrapped in each other on Sunday, it was **Yongsun** who broached the topic of how their Saturday evenings panned out. **Yongsun **who willingly and in a forthcoming manner shared details about the nature of her time spent with Jinyoung—naturally, Moonbyul had her doubts about what their interactions entailed, but the older woman’s openness in divulging those details went a long way in pushing Byulyi’s concerns to a back burner for the time being.

Over the past few days, the graduate student even took to sending morning text messages. The lines were very clearly drawn in the sand that that was Byulyi’s thing, and yet, the basketball player woke up on Wednesday morning to a message from Yongsun wishing her good luck for the day with Nike. While her nerves about the interview didn’t evaporate, the thoughtful words brought a smile to her face—it felt good to have support like that in her corner.

That text alone meant an incredible amount to Byulyi, as did the other messages they exchanged throughout the day. What did her in, though, was after her interview and practice when, on her way back to her apartment, she shared with Yongsun over a phone call how poorly she’d slept Tuesday night due to anxiousness about everything. Once finished scolding Byulyi for not mentioning that earlier, Yongsun, again without hesitation, asked, “_Do you want to spend the night by me? Your tournament starts tomorrow and you always mention how comfortable you sleep over here_. _It might be good to help you catch up on the sleep you lost._” Just like that. Of course, Byulyi accepted immediately. And, as it went more often than not, Yongsun was right. Byulyi slept the best she had all week. Maybe it was the sheets, maybe it was that Yongsun’s room always smelled **so** damn good, or maybe it was the woman around whom she wrapped herself.

Thinking back to the way her Wednesday night ended, Byulyi smiled gently at memories of the way her Thursday started earlier—still wrapped in Yongsun. Not physically. Byulyi’s arms met only wrinkled sheets when she came to, but almost all of her other senses were overwhelmed with the graduate student. Residual steam from the bathroom wafted into the bedroom, carrying with it the familiar—but still surprisingly intoxicating—combination of peppermint and berries. The lush aroma of Yongsun’s body wash and shampoo, respectively, caressed Byulyi’s nose immediately, followed by the whiff of food and spray starch slipping through the slit of the partially open bedroom door.

Yongsun woke up early enough to cook Byulyi breakfast and iron her uniform for the tournament. All while preparing for work at 9:00 AM. The athlete distinctly remembered the way her skin stretched to its limit at smiling so wide at that before confusion washed over her—the behavior Yongsun exhibited was that of a partner. Not partner-**like **behavior. Not partner-adjacent behavior. Partner behavior, period. And Yongsun seemed oblivious to that. It was confusing.

Her actions said one thing but whenever the status of their relationship was explicitly brought up, the blonde became a thesaurus—sputtering endless words and phrases that alluded to what they were without ever actually saying it. Because, for whatever reason, she couldn’t.

But Byulyi put that on a back burner too, because since officially upgrading their relationship to ‘seeing each other as more than friends’, they’d been doing well. As such, the young woman stayed quiet and took whatever Yongsun freely gave, be that breakfast, cuddling, or kisses. She stayed quiet and took what she could get because she feared that pointing out the inconsistency between the other’s words and actions would push Yongsun away. Their romantic relationship thus far was a dinghy patched together with electrical tape, only barely surviving turbulent waters. One wrong move, one wrong decision would rock them beyond control and that was the last thing Byulyi wanted.

What she wanted was a relationship. And she wanted that **so** badly with Yongsun. They were **so** close. Within arm’s reach, it felt. Thus, the athlete blocked her ears to the roundabout words Yongsun told others and placed greater emphasis on the other woman’s actions. **Those** told a very different story.

The breakfast, cuddling, and kissing.

The fact that the two began their walk back to UV without needing to acknowledge out loud whose apartment they were heading to because they both already knew that Byulyi would continue living out of Yongsun’s apartment for the duration of the tournament. The breakfasts, cuddling, and kissing would continue.

That all meant something, no? It had to. No one was forcing Yongsun to do **any** of what she was doing. In fact, no one even **asked** Yongsun to do any of that. She did it all because she **wanted** to. Yongsun had serious feelings for her. She did what she did because she wanted this thing with Byulyi as much as Byulyi wanted this thing with Yongsun.

That’s what Byulyi hoped it all meant. No other explanation made sense.

**Yongsun** didn’t make sense.

_“Oh. Well . . . I always mean it positively. You always look cute to me.”_

So, yeah, instead of letting her most recent words hang between them and risk the chance that **that** compliment might be the one to tip Yongsun’s emotional scale, Byulyi got a hold of herself and followed those sincere and honest words of adoration and sentimentality with a stupid joke. Yongsun seemed none the wiser and responded with a quip of her own, leading the younger of the two to breathe easy as they, once again, fell into their routine banter.

The absurdity of it all never once left her though. They kept on with their walk to Yongsun’s apartment where they’d continue playing house without explicitly acknowledging that the level of intimacy coating their every action was a sign of them already being what they still held off on calling each other.  
  
  


*

“My turn. What would be a perfect day for you?”

“Hmm. My perfect day. Let’s see. I’d wake up to breakfast already made. No classes. Then I’d play and watch basketball all day before ending it by cuddling in bed with my favorite person while we take turns asking each other stupid questions. Kind of like today.”

“My questions are stupid?”

“You do this on purpose. Derailing the conversation. I’m sure of it.”

“So now I derail conversations?”

“Oh my gosh, go to sleep. You’re annoying me now.”

“Stop stealing my phrases, one. And two, now I’m annoying?” Yongsun asked in a purposely exaggerated voice.

They’d been at it this way for the past hour. The evening’s minutes ticked by with Byulyi and Yongsun’s muted laughter and increasingly drowsy voices filling space and time that was designated for soft snores. Byulyi blamed Yongsun.

They ate dinner and took turns washing up before the graduate student set up shop in the living room to complete schoolwork. Byulyi, sapped of energy from a jam-packed few days, lingered on the couch for a bit before giving in to her body’s demands—she needed sleep. Yet even after trudging to Yongsun’s room and settling into her side of the bed, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her body yearned for it, but her mind refused. Neither the cool sheets nor the gentle breeze flowing in through the bedside window eased her mind enough to bring sleep. The athlete re-watched film on Anyang University—SNU’s opponent on Friday—until Yongsun finally traipsed in and climbed into bed next to her. Unable to let the moment pass, Byulyi fought the immediate comfort and peace Yongsun’s presence offered to make a joke. Something along the lines of how SNU would blame Yongsun if the team lost because it was her fault Byulyi wasn’t well-rested. It was stupid. It was predictable. And Yongsun fell for it anyway.

The nonsensical bickering somehow transitioned into an informal game of 21 Questions that had yet to stop.

“What is the greatest accomplishment in your life?” Byulyi asked groggily with eyes closed. Laying on her back, she cradled the head on her chest with her left hand while her right held onto Yongsun’s leg draped across her hips.

“Getting accepted to SNU.”

“Why?”

“It’s only supposed to be one question at a time, but I’ll allow it. I gave that answer because I didn’t have a backup plan. SNU was all or nothing for me. I only worked for a year after college to prepare for graduate school. Everything was about getting into this program. I felt it was the only way to get to the next level in life, whatever that next level is. Not too sure what it is I’m looking for, maybe stability? I don’t know. But I felt I’d be able to reach it by going down this route.”

That was the sincerest turn their conversation had taken since starting, and the first time Yongsun shared that piece of information with Byulyi. The athlete knew about specific elements of the other woman’s life before attending this school—her family, the job she had, a little about what college was like for her—but they never discussed why it was Yongsun chose this path. She knew a lot about Yongsun, and Yongsun knew a lot about her, but even after over 1.5 years of friendship, Byulyi knew that she didn’t know **all **of Yongsun. She wanted to, though. That included learning more about the motivations that informed her best friend’s decisions, especially the decision to attend SNU, the one that led to their paths crossing.

Follow-up questions sat on the tip of her tongue, ready to burst through. Did Yongsun now have ideas about what the “next level” looked like for her? Has she been satisfied thus far with her decision to go to graduate school? She most wanted to ask, though, what kind of stability it was that Yongsun wanted so that she could remind the blonde once again that she, Byulyi, was more than willing to provide whatever semblance of stability and security she could. She wanted to be the rock for Yongsun that Yongsun was for her.

However, to no surprise, Yongsun shut the door on that before Byulyi’s brain instructed her lips to open.

“Would you like to be famous? And if so, in what way?”

“Ah. A double question because of my double question.”

“Yes.”

Fame was never something Byulyi thought about. Real fame, not the ‘popularity’ that came with being an athlete at SNU. Until very recently, fame wasn’t something attainable for female athletes. “I just want to play basketball, make money, and take care of my loved ones. That’s all. Fame . . . I could do without.”

“Says the one with a Nike deal who’s about to spend all of her Saturday with models.”

“That’s part of the making money that will help me take care of my loved ones,” Byulyi answered coolly.

“I’m sure you’re not complaining about the company you’ll have though.”

“I don’t even know who the people I’ll be working with are. And I say **working** because it’s a **job**. Emphasis on the job part.”

“You can relax. I’m not upset, Byul,” Yongsun’s muffled laugh buried into the athlete’s chest.

“If you’re finally ready to apply to be a model, I can put in a good word for you on Saturday. May not be famous, but there are still perks of knowing me. I can get you an in with industry folks.”

“Ohhh, right. Because you’re a model now, too,” Yongsun sarcastically remarked.

“Exactly. So just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll make a few calls.”

“I can’t be a model.”

“Why not?”

“Models are supposed to be unbelievably beautiful.”

“Like I said, when you’re ready to apply, let me know,” Byulyi doubled down.

“Stupid.”

“The looks are top tier. This attitude though . . .” Yongsun’s signature squeaky laugh rang out at that, which, in turn, made Byulyi smile fondly. Her best friend deserved to laugh that freely all the time. “Excited for your Saturday?”

Chorong’s birthday was the day before on Wednesday. From what Yongsun told Byulyi, her roommate went out for a romantic dinner with her boyfriend and spent the night at his place. It was why the two had the apartment to themselves last night and today. Chorong being Chorong, though, birthday celebrations lasted a full week. They began the weekend before her birthday and would continue through the weekend after her birthday. Saturday was a girls’ night out at Jungsik, a highly touted Korean cuisine restaurant in Gangnam. Sunday was brunch at the apartment with their ’91 Club friends.

“Eh.”

“Eh? Thought you’d be more excited for a night out with the girls,” Byulyi murmured. It was well past midnight and her body was slowly surrendering to sleep.

Moments passed with no response, leading her to believe Yongsun lost her own battle with slumber. She was startled, then, when she felt rumbling against her nightshirt from Yongsun humming in contemplation. “It’ll be fun, I’m just worried that it’ll get weird.”

“The weirder the better, no? Also, it’s Chorong, weird is to be expected.”

“Maybe you should be grateful that she likes you now and not talk bad about her.”

“She likes me as long as I treat you well so . . . she may not like me for much longer. It’s getting more difficult each day to keep up with this charade. You’re too demanding.” If it weren’t obvious enough that she was joking, Byulyi slipped comforting fingers into Yongsun’s hair, massaging her scalp as she spoke. The hope was that the intimate gesture would negate her words said in jest.

“For someone that jokes so much, you’re not funny at all. A shame. Anyway, not weird in a good way, weird in an uncomfortable way.”

Once more, verbal silence ensued, only the sound of their in-sync breaths to be heard.

There was more to the story. If Yongsun wanted to explain further, she would. As much as she wanted to, Byulyi wasn’t going to push.

“The whole thing is stupid.” Yet there was hesitance in each word uttered. How long it was taking for Yongsun to tell the story raised red flags. Whatever she was going to say was going to either annoy Byulyi beyond belief or piss her off. “One of Chorong’s sorority sisters messaged me earlier this week with an apology. Long story short, she thought Jinyoung and I were dating so she apologized because the two of them exchanged numbers or whatever. She has a crush on him, or **had** a crush on him. I don’t know. Like I said, it’s stupid. But she’ll be there on Saturday and I don’t really want to deal with that.”

“Why would she think you were dating him?”

Byulyi suddenly wished she never asked about Yongsun’s plans for Saturday.

“Because we were hanging out on Saturday and we left together. You and I talked about that already. He was the only other sober person I knew there. It wasn’t anything romantic.”

“To you.”

“To anyone.”

“Except for Chorong’s sorority sister and probably her other friends. If strangers are looking from the outside and assuming a romantic relationship, there’s probably enough happening there that looks like a romantic relationship.” For example, this very thing between her and Yongsun. Within moments, strangers assumed there was more than friendship between the two of them and although it had yet to be privately or publicly confirmed, those strangers were right.

“Byul. Stop. We sat next to each other, talked, and ate. That’s it. I eventually cleared it up and explained to her that it’s not like that with him at all.”

“Did you tell her that he’s your ex?”

“I did not. Because that doesn’t matter. She assumed he and I were together, I told her that wasn’t true, end of story.”

“Then why are you concerned about Saturday?”

“I’m not concerned,” the blonde sighed—that meant she was getting frustrated, which was fine because Byulyi was frustrated now, too. “I just don’t know if she’ll let the issue rest or if she’ll make things awkward by bringing it up.”

“Okay,” Byulyi responded tersely.

“See? I knew I should’ve kept it to myself.”

“My favorite part is that this happened earlier this week and you’re only mentioning it on Thursday—well, it’s technically Friday now—because I happened to ask about your upcoming weekend.”

“I didn’t mention it because it’s not a big issue. We’re fighting over Jinyoung, Byulyi. **Jinyoung**. He is not an issue. Of the many stupid things we argue about, this is one of the stupidest.”

It wasn’t stupid to Byulyi. At all. If anything, there were larger and more important underlying issues that this mix-up carried to the surface. For example, Byulyi already knew that in her clarification to Chorong’s sorority sister, Yongsun didn’t mention that she was seeing someone else. She did not even have to ask to know that assumption was correct. It hurt deeply knowing that that was the case.

Outside the walls of their apartments, Kim Yongsun and Moon Byulyi did not exist. They could cuddle as much as they wanted, eat breakfast and dinner together, discuss their days and innermost thoughts, but to the outside world, they were not real. A popular item of speculation and gossip, yes. Anything beyond that? No.

But Byulyi had already rocked the boat enough for one night.

“It’s too late. We should go to sleep. You have an early morning.” Both heard the weariness in her voice. Neither mentioned it.

“Okay. Sleep well,” Yongsun timidly responded.

“You, too.”

For the first time ever, holding Yongsun in her arms did nothing for Byulyi. No restful sleep, no peace of mind, no nothing.

Yongsun’s eventual steady breathing indicated that she’d fallen asleep, but Byulyi’s mind raced for hours after their last words were spoken to each other, one thought trampling over the others to command the most real estate in her head—what the hell were she and Yongsun **actually** doing?

*

Friday morning came and went, but Byulyi’s wariness remained. She ended her Thursday doing exactly what she spent an inordinate amount of mental energy reminding herself earlier in the week not to do—rocking the boat. However, the same scents from Thursday morning were waiting for her on Friday. Body wash. Shampoo. Breakfast. Spray starch. Yongsun greeted her happily, as if their friction hours earlier never happened.

Byulyi did well to follow suit.

With no further mention of their argument, Yongsun left for a full day of class, Byulyi focused on preparing for another basketball game. Both returned to the older woman’s apartment afterward and ate dinner together.

The two were separated all of Saturday, Byulyi leaving the apartment first to make an early call time for yet another Nike engagement, this one a photoshoot for online promotional content. It was the beginning of integrating her into things as an official Nike Athlete and ambassador. From what her agent told her, it wasn’t anything too elaborate. She’d only have to model an assortment of Nike gear. The ‘only’ was what had her stomach in knots—she wasn’t a model. **But**, even with the initial stumbling through picture taking and the social clumsiness on set and during the dinner with crew afterward, Byulyi made it through. All thanks to her partner for the day, Lee Sungkyung.

_At least five centimeters taller and only two years older than Byulyi, Sungkyung carried herself like a woman at least a decade older. Long, voluminous auburn locks kissed by sunlight, striking eyes, and plump, pouty lips, she strut onto set casually greeting the PD and other crew members by name, looking every bit like the veteran Byulyi assumed she was. If ‘uninterested, can’t be bothered’ was a person, it would be Sungkyung’s face, her demeanor and aura only further intensifying Moonbyul’s first-photoshoot nerves. _

_“Let’s do well today.” The first words Sungkyung spoke to Byulyi. Monotone, but they came with what seemed to be a sincere smile. Encounters throughout the remainder of the photoshoot made it clear that the dry manner of speech on Sungkyung’s part wasn’t personal, it was simply the model’s way of talking. In fact, she spent all day looking out for the newbie, asking icebreaker questions while the photographer took test shots and dropping insider tips and tricks—a mention here about how Byulyi could get more wear out of her makeup, a quick comment there on ‘reading’ the camera to ensure the best angles and shots, even informing the athlete about dinner the PD was hosting later for everyone at a popular burger restaurant in Seogyo._

_Moonbyul was grateful to have lucked out as much as she did with the partner she was paired with._

_Dinner was more of the same—Sungkyung looking out for her and serving as a social lubricant. It was through the model that Byulyi became more familiar with the crew members who, not even hours before, spent hours primping and perfecting her hair, makeup, and outfits. It was a nice feeling being brought into the fold. But the evening ended early for her as the others made plans to continue their evening festivities. Given her basketball game on Sunday, Byulyi declined the invitation and headed back to Yongsun’s apartment._

_The only moment of more-than-average interest that evening, if it could be called that, occurred as the restaurant prepared for closing. Sungkyung, Woohyun, and Iseul—a hairstylist and makeup artist from the day’s shoot, respectively—were finalizing their plans when Woohyun began lamenting the fact that Byulyi wasn’t joining them, citing how much he enjoyed her presence and made her promise to hang out another time so that he could learn more about her. It was a bit over the top because he had a good number of drinks in him, but it was nice knowing she’d made a strong positive impression. _

_“We’ll get together again and we’ll leave the partners at home,” Woohyun declared, likely because moments before chatting Byulyi up, he was telling the group that his boyfriend was joining for the next leg of partying. “Wait, I never even asked! Byulyi, single or no?”_

_“He’s asking because if you’re single, he’ll try setting you up with people,” Sungkyung warned._

_“You don’t know my type, though,” Byulyi chuckled softly while finally standing from her seat to put her coat on. The restaurant was officially closed and she doubted the workers were looking to stay longer than they needed to._

_“Exactly. That’s why when we all go out again, I’ll learn your type and help you find love.”_

I already have that _was her first thought_. I’m trying to hold on to it _was her second_.

_She didn’t stop often to think about it, but even with no official label, Byulyi recognized and acknowledged the overwhelming amount of emotion between her and Yongsun. Something new to the athlete. She had friends but her relationship with Yongsun was more than any of those friendships. She’d had romantic relationships. This with Yongsun felt **more** than those, too. Deeper. Heavier. Difficult to explain. Their relationship was uncharted territory for her. Byulyi cared about the women she’d been with before the graduate student, but the care she had for Yongsun was different. Suffocating and, to and extent, all-consuming, but in a way that didn’t feel obsessive. It wasn’t only what Yongsun did for her that stood out, not only the breakfasts or the surprise celebrations and gifts. It was also the moments of_ _absolute silence—Yongsun sitting on the living room floor doing work while Byulyi laid on the couch playing mobile games or watching basketball. The moments where she’d be going through her day and suddenly think of Yongsun, only to open her messages and see three dots on the left side of the screen that matched hers on the right. The moments where Yongsun would tell the unfunniest jokes yet Byulyi would laugh anyway, overflowing with disappointment that she couldn’t resist how equally **cute** and **lame** her best friend was. A whirl of emotions she’d never before experienced all at once. _

_Which was all the more reason for her to proceed as cautiously as she was. Buried deep down, there was unspoken frustration at their minimal progress, but what she and Yongsun had wasn’t easy to find and they’d put in a lot of work to get to where they currently were. The last thing Byulyi wanted was to lose that._

_Right now, though, it was a relief to not worry about any of the messy. None of the complications or wrinkles left to be ironed out mattered. Byul didn’t have to speak in code and technicalities, nor did she have to worry about Sungkyung, Iseul, or Woohyun immediately connecting the dots in terms of **who** she was speaking about. Full honesty wouldn’t become another headache._

_“No. I’m not single.” A chorus of squeals rang out at the announcement, all of which Byulyi ignored to the best of her ability. It wasn’t often that she found herself the youngest in a group, but whenever she did, it always came with this endless teasing and overreaction._

_“Are you **really** going home to rest or are you meeting up with your person?” Iseul asked skeptically._

_“My person’s out with friends tonight. I’m going home to sleep. I promise.”_

And sleep she did.

Once tucked under Yongsun’s covers, Byulyi barely typed out a message informing the older woman that she was heading to bed before the adrenaline of her week wore off and the exhaustion settled in.

Nine hours of basketball training. Eight hours spent in treatment and recovery. A two-hour interview. Five hours’ worth of basketball in two consecutive days. Ten hours at a photoshoot followed by a three-hour work dinner. And, because she was still a university student, two college courses accounted for five and a half hours of in-person class time and a few more hours outside of the classroom. All in six days.

Physical tiredness wasn’t new to her, Byulyi grew accustomed to handling her body being pushed to its limit. However, the physical strain combined with the mental and emotional toll of the week’s activities had her head spinning. So much so that added weight on her back and arms wrapped around her lower stomach on Sunday morning left her momentarily confused.

“Byul-ah. Wake up.” Even with eyes not yet pried open, Yongsun’s deep morning voice and teasing side strokes had every other part of Byulyi’s body awake.

“No, let’s cuddle instead,” she rasped.

“No cuddling. We have to get up.”

“We don’t. It’s a Sunday morning. We can sleep in.”

“You have a game you need to get ready for and I have Chorong’s brunch.”

“My game isn’t until tonight. Your brunch isn’t until . . .”

“2:00 PM.”

“2:00 PM.” Fingers fumbled around the bedside wooden night table for her cell phone, slight relief at finding it there because she could have sworn she fell asleep with it next to her. Yongsun must have put it away when she came in. For the first time all morning, Byulyi opened her eyes—well, one eye—to read the time. “It’s 11:33 AM. We can cuddle for at least 15 minutes.”

“Byul-ah,” Yongsun protested, voice vibrating against Moonbyul’s back.

“Do it for SNU. If we cuddle, I’ll feel better. If I feel better, I’ll play better and we’ll win. This is a small sacrifice for a much greater good,” Byulyi mumbled. Since checking the time, her phone had been carelessly flung back onto the night table, face pressed into the pillow once more. The hope was that Yongsun would quickly give in—Byulyi did not have enough energy for much more of a back and forth.

This Sunday must have been blessed because, with no objection, the welcome added weight on her back disappeared suddenly as Yongsun climbed off and returned to her side of the bed. Stifling a groan at the stiff muscles protesting the movement, Byulyi turned onto her left side and pulled the other’s back flush against her chest. A peck to Yongsun’s right cheek for good measure.

So they lay. Over the covers. Byul’s heart beating against Yongsun’s back. Her left arm serving as a pillow for the graduate student, while her right arm draped casually across the curve in Yongsun’s waist. It was nice. Them basking in each other’s presence, no words needed, just calm.

The window beside the night table was cracked open, allowing in a steady, gentle, and crisp breeze that carried in with it the voices of UV residents in the courtyard. The echoes of the strangers’ laughter served as background music to the pair’s intimate moment.

Her body ached, her brain was fried, and she still had a conference championship to worry about later, but for now, none of that mattered. **This** was what Byulyi knew she and Yongsun could be. When they weren’t getting in their own way, they were great for each other. Even while doing nothing, being with Yongsun was everything.

“How’s your body holding up?”

“**Is** my body holding up?”

“Mmm. Are you going to be okay tonight?”

“No. My lucky charm won’t be there.” She knew ahead of time that Yongsun wouldn’t make the game today. That didn’t make it any less of a bummer.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be around for the National Tournament games, though. Will be front row with a sign and everything.”

“Sounds fake.”

“**Anyway**, about your body,” Yongsun ignored her sarcasm.

“I’ll be okay, Yong. KT tape and compression tights will get me through it. And I can sleep in tomorrow so things will be fine. How was your night out?” This was their first chance to really talk things out as texts were limited throughout all of Saturday.

“A lot of fun!” The amount of enthusiasm in that response was a surprise given the concerns Yongsun had earlier in the week about the outing. However, as the older woman explained, her biggest concern never came to be. Chorong’s sorority sister didn’t bring Jinyoung up at all, which made it possible for Yongsun to eventually let her guard down and enjoy the night out. Her excitement was evident in the amount of detail she gave while recounting the evening, most of which Byulyi missed because she dozed off a few times, but the young woman got the gist of things—Yongsun, Chorong, and company ate well, drank a lot, then went bar- and club-hopping until after three in the morning. It now made sense why the messages Byulyi did send went unanswered for so long. “How was your night?”

“Not as exciting as yours. My partner was really cool though. She helped me out a lot and she’s coming to the game tonight. Was hoping to introduce her to you, but maybe another time.”

“The two of you are that close already?”

“No. She seems nice though and she made a big fuss about us hanging out more so maybe in the future we’ll get closer. From last night alone she gave a lot of helpful advice for handling the other shoots I’ll have. She could be a mentor of sorts. Nothing more than that though.”

“Oh gosh, I wasn’t thinking there was more between the two of you, Byulyi. Relax. It was just a question.”

“I’m just saying. I want it on record that I only have eyes for one person.”

“We get it.” She couldn’t see it but Moonbyul knew a signature eye roll accompanied the cheeky remark.

“Y’know what? You’re a little too comfortable for my liking. When I say sweet things like that, you should respond with more energy. I need more excitement in your voice.”

“Noted.” Yongsun’s voice was even more devoid of enthusiasm than before.

“There’s no winning with you.”

“I’m glad you know.”

Both seemingly more tired from their Saturdays than they let on, Byulyi and Yongsun only managed feeble chuckles before settling once more into a comfortable silence.

“Yongsun!” Count on Chorong to disrupt the peace.

“Mmm?” The grunt successfully carried through the door because Chorong’s response was prompt.

“Are you finished getting ready?”

“Haven’t started yet, why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’ It’s almost noon. When did you plan on getting ready?”

“Probably soon.”

“**Probably **soon? Brunch starts at 1:00 PM, Yongsun.”

“It starts at 2:00 PM.”

“How are you telling **me**? I’m the one that planned it. I told everyone to get here for 1:00 PM. Some of the guys said they may come earlier than that in case we needed them to get any last-minute items.”

“Why would it start at 1:00 PM?”

“Because that’s an appropriate time for brunch. Breakfast and lunch, brunch, makes no sense at 2:00 PM, that would just be lunch.”

“Rongie,” Yongsun whined. “I’m tired.”

“And hungover,” Byulyi added low enough for only the two of them to hear.

“And hungover,” Yongsun confirmed, the two laughing behind closed doors at their inside joke.

“Get your ass up and get ready before I barge into your room and **make** you get your ass up. I understand your girl is here, but, respectfully, I don’t care. Hi, Byulyi,” Yongsun’s roommate barked as an afterthought before her heavy steps down the hallway could be heard.

“See? You got me in trouble.”

“Wow. That’s the first time she was nicer to me than she was to you.” It was also unbelievably refreshing to hear Chorong refer to her as Yongsun’s girl. That tidbit stayed tucked away.

“I **told** you we needed to get up. But no, you wanted to cuddle.”

“You could’ve said no, I didn’t force you. Plus, there’s no ‘we’ that needed to get up. **You** need to get up and get ready. **I’m** going back to sleep. Please respect that.”

“You’re so damn annoying. I feel like choking you.”

Having unwrapped her arms from around Yongsun, Byulyi had already turned over and found a new comfortable sleeping position. Eyes closed, conscience clear, she murmured, “Mmm. I love a good choking. That sounds like fun. Another time though, Chorong said you have to get ready.”

Whatever subsequent nagging came from Yongsun fell on deaf ears. Byulyi fell back asleep within minutes.

*

“You have everything, right?”

“I think so.”

“You think or you know?”

“I **think**, mom. I have the stuff I need for the game later. That’s all that matters. Anything else I can pick up another time.”

Foolishly thinking she’d gotten the last laugh earlier, Byulyi’s peaceful sleep was rudely interrupted an hour later by the harsh sound of Yongsun’s hairdryer. It was abrasive and rude, enough so that remaining asleep proved impossible.

_“If you want to sleep, sleep. That doesn’t mean I have to stop living my life.”_

She huffed and puffed about the cold words—a mini tantrum that Yongsun drowned out by turning up the hairdryer’s setting—but the younger eventually gave up on the theatrics. It was impossible to put off the inevitable much longer anyway. She **did** need to get up and begin game day preparations. Once the overgrown child fully accepted that, Yongsun’s tune changed. The blonde scuttled around the room with her, collecting Byulyi’s belongings and helping her pack things up.

“I’ll keep an eye out for anything left behind.”

“Thanks.” Scanning the room once more for any obvious forgotten belongings, the taller woman found none, tightening the straps of her bookbag and gripping the handles of her royal blue duffel bag. “Let me get going now. Your friends are probably going to start arriving soon.”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s obviously something. Why do you sound like that?” Byulyi chuckled at the sudden wistful tone of Yongsun’s voice.

“I just . . . feel bad. I’m missing your game tonight and we didn’t get to spend much time together at all this weekend.”

“Yeah, because you were out partying. Neglected me.”

“Stop,” Yongsun playfully slapped her arm. “I already feel horrible. Don’t say stuff like that,” the older woman pouted.

“How about we have dinner tonight then? You and me. We can go to one of the small shops up the block. It’s not much, but–”

“That’s perfect,” she assured Moonbyul, stepping in to wrap her arms tightly around the athlete’s waist. “I know how tired you are and how tired you’re going to be later so I really appreciate you offering that. Thank you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.” And she meant that. In none of her previous relationships did Byulyi feel as strongly as she did in this work-in-progress with Yongsun. It wasn’t only the acts of care they did for each other, it was their: dynamic, chemistry, conversations, equally childish senses of humor, everything. For the most part, all of it clicked and, in over a year and a half, had yet to stop clicking. Byulyi wanted and needed Yongsun to reach her goals as badly as the athlete wanted and needed to meet her own. Mentally and emotionally, that’s where Byulyi was. Wholly invested.

The tender moment continued as, surprisingly, Yongsun angled her head upwards for a kiss, one that Byulyi happily offered in the form of a quick peck. However, aware of the time, and, more pressing, worried that swept up in the emotion of things she’d speak life to feelings strong enough to scare Yongsun away, Byulyi put an end to it.

“Can you hurry up and grow taller, please? It’s starting to hurt my back having to bend down all the time to reach you.”

“Okay, I’m over you now. You can leave. Thanks,” Yongsun pointed towards the door.

“At least be a proper host and walk me out.”

“You’re here too often to still be considered a guest. That means no guest privileges.”

“**Anyway!** I’m ready to leave. Thank you in advance for walking me out.”

It normally took only seconds to get from the bedroom to the apartment door, if even that. Hand-in-hand and stopping every few steps for this and that, it took the pair several minutes. Once they did reach their destination, both idled, neither fully invested in separating for the handful of hours they’d be apart.

“So . . .” Yongsun started.

“Mmhmm,” came Byulyi’s dopey smile as Yongsun turned to face her.

“Have a good game today.”

“Thank you.”

“And be safe.”

“I’ll try.”

“Go be . . . Moon Byulyi. Yeah?”

“What does that even mean? Are you still drunk from last night?”

“Shut up! It means . . . like . . . go lead your team and be good at all that sports stuff like you always do.”

“Oh, okay,” the athlete responded softly.

“Okay,” Yongsun smiled back.

Who knows how much longer them saying nothing of substance could have lasted if not for the doorbell interrupting. Mid-smile, Yongsun carelessly swung the door open, not bothering to check who it was.

“Oh! Jinyoung. Hi.” Byulyi heard the name before he came into view but the effect was the same—mood instantly deflated.

“Hey. Hi. Is Changsub here? He messaged me a while back saying he was on the way.”

“Haven’t heard from him. I’m pretty sure you’re the first to arrive. Come on in.” Allowing him space to enter, Yongsun stepped away from the door, backing into Byulyi’s chest in the process. They stayed so, Yongsun standing in front of her while making small talk with Jinyoung until Chorong finally joined them and took over hosting and welcoming duties. All the while Byulyi’s left hand and Yongsun’s right remained joined. Obscured from Chorong and Jinyoung’s view, but joined, nonetheless.

It felt significant but Byulyi held off on attaching any meaning to it yet as it was possible that Yongsun simply forgot their fingers were interlocked because she was swept up in everything else. As such, the senior just stood there while the other three chatted. Left hand in Yongsun’s. Right hand strained from holding onto her duffel bag for as long as it’d been. Not speaking. Trying to fade into the background and not draw any attention to herself. Because she **knew**. The longer she was in this room, the greater likelihood there was for things to turn left.

Heartrate picking up with each passing second, the younger woman grew restless and tense. All efforts to secretly grab Yongsun’s attention proved futile—she and Chorong were deep in conversation about when their food order was due to arrive while Jinyoung hovered near the apartment’s entrance mostly listening to them coordinate last-minute details. Well, until Yongsun absentmindedly stepped forward a bit, leaving their joined hands visible to the young man for the first time since his arrival. At that point, all he then did was stare, eyes silently, and swiftly bouncing back and forth between Byulyi and a still unsuspecting Yongsun. His presence pissed Byulyi off. **He** pissed Byulyi off.

Thinking rationally, there was nothing wrong with the man. By all accounts, he was a nice guy. In the truest sense of that phrase. Wheein, Hyejin, even Chorong, had only positive things to say about him. The few times that he and Byulyi interacted, Jinyoung was courteous. It was true that she thought him to be boring and bland but, thinking rationally, neither of those were criminal offences, and his perceived lack of personality wasn’t enough to explain why Byulyi disliked him as much as she did. It’s why the athlete preferred to not think rationally. Interrogating the animosity toward Jinyoung only revealed that her issue with him wasn’t an issue with him at all.

He asked Yongsun to be his girlfriend, Yongsun said yes. Byulyi asked Yongsun to be in a relationship, the graduate student hemmed, hawed, and found new ways to say no without saying no. That wasn’t Jinyoung’s fault.

That being said, it was easier being annoyed with him and upset at him than it was with the woman she was actually frustrated with. It was easier making Jinyoung a villain than it was accepting that all signs pointed toward her fighting a losing battle and waiting for a day with Yongsun that didn’t look like it was coming. Disliking Jinyoung was easier than considering that maybe Yongsun didn’t want her as much as Yongsun said she did or as much as the older woman’s actions hinted that she did.

The inner musings only lasted seconds but that was long enough for Yongsun to finally notice Byulyi’s silence and Jinyoung’s still-wandering eyes. In a way, it was funny—Byulyi watching Yongsun watch Jinyoung. And, in a way, the younger woman already knew what Yongsun’s response would be to the awkward situation they found themselves in, but that didn’t make what was to come hurt any less.

“Jinyoung, you’re still holding that bag? Let me take that from you.”

In a flash, Yongsun freed her fingers from Byulyi’s to fuss over the contents of the plastic bag Jinyoung held onto. Honestly, very well executed, but that, too, was not a surprise. The graduate student was very good at many things, including making Byulyi feel foolish for consistently buying into her promises for their future.

All Byulyi could do was laugh, which she did. Softly.

“What’s so funny?” Chorong asked in earnest, oblivious to the mess brewing in front of her.

“Nothing,” the senior shook her head with a wry smile. “Anyway, I’m going to head out now. Chorong, for like the fiftieth time, happy birthday. Have fun today.”

“Thank you! I think now is as good a time as any to mention that you have yet to give me my gift, but I assume it’s coming.”

“Sure, let’s assume that,” Byulyi chuckled genuinely this time.

“Chorong, take care of the things in this bag. I’m going to walk Byulyi out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see myself out,” she tersely responded without looking Yongsun’s way or waiting for a response.

*

“Look who it is. You’ve been gone so long I forgot I even had a roommate.”

“Not now, Heeyeon. I’m not in the mood.”

“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“If you’re just going to fucking make jokes, you can leave.”

Byulyi hadn’t given much thought to anything in the time it took her to hightail it out of Yongsun’s apartment and barge into her own. Ears ringing after slamming the doors to her apartment and bedroom and recklessly tossing her bags at the first opportunity, the athlete was startled when someone gently tapped on her door before entering without waiting for a response. Heeyeon.

Knowing that humor was the pair’s primary love language, it was understandable that jokes would be her roommate’s first words to her. There was no way for Heeyeon to know there was absolutely nothing funny about what was going on.

A restless Byulyi paced back and forth, vibrating with fury.

“What happened?”

“More of the same,” she sighed. “I really don’t even want to get into it. I think I’m just going to go to the arena early. Get some shots up and forget this whole thing.”

“You’re going to go in five hours early, Byulyi? Be realistic. Whatever the two of you fought about— I’m assuming it was a fight with Yongsun-unnie—can’t be that bad.”

“Okay,” the senior coldly shot back. The more she thought about it, the more appealing heading to the arena early sounded. Physically distancing herself right now seemed a potential solution to slow down the thoughts she was drowning in. Rushing to the duffel bag she carelessly threw into a corner, Byulyi rifled through its contents, flinging anything not basketball related in the direction of her bed. Night clothes, extra t-shirts, sweatpants meant for lounging around, spare underwear. She’d deal with them later.

“Look, you’re not telling me anything about what happened so I can’t even begin to help. But I will say this, the two of you have your moments where you get into a disagreement, then you eventually resolve it. That’s how it goes, that’s how the two of you work. Don’t stress this too much, it’ll be fine.”

Not as confident about that, Byulyi stayed quiet and continued organizing her bag as Heeyeon hovered near the door at the foot of the bed. Their attention was drawn to the pocket of Byul’s shorts minutes later once vibrations resounded through the stillness and stuffiness of the room.

Sighing, Byulyi pulled the phone out with a roll of her eyes. She already knew who it was.

**From: Yong**

Have you eaten yet? _1:13 pm_

Obviously not, she thought while rolling her eyes again. Only about 10 minutes passed since leaving the older women’s apartment. When would she have had time to eat? That beating around the bush led to a spike in already-overflowing irritation. The phone was flung onto the bed just like the items before it.

“Was that Yongsun-unnie? If so, don’t be like that Byulyi. If she’s trying to talk to you, hear her out.”

“Whose side are you even on?” The athlete snapped.

“I’m on the side of peace,” Heeyeon countered, never one to back down at her friend’s bark. “When the two of you are on good terms, life is less complicated for everyone else in your lives.”

Caving, the brunette trudged to the bed, noticing a new message.

**From: Yong**

Byul-ah. Please. _1:14 pm_

**To: Yong**

No. I haven’t eaten. _1:15 pm_

**From: Yong**

The food was delivered. I’ll make you a plate and bring it over. We have a lot.

Is Heeyeon there? _1:15 pm_

**To: Yong**

Yes. _1:15 pm_

**From: Yong**

I’ll make one for her, too _1:16 pm_

**To: Yong**

k. _1:16 pm_

“She’s coming over and bringing food for us.”

“Love her!”

“Mmm,” the younger of the two grunted noncommittally.

“Stop, you love her, too. Like, **love **her, love her,” Heeyeon nudged.

No comment came from Byulyi and no more attempts at conversation came from Heeyeon. The latter remained in her friend’s room though, sending worried glances the athlete’s way.

Not long later, the sound of the doorbell floated into the bedroom. Byulyi’s inaction prompted Heeyeon to step up, stating out loud that she’d get it. Maybe it was obvious her roommate needed the extra seconds to collect herself.

“Don’t be too hard on her, Byulyi.” Not meant as humorous in the slightest, the athlete chuckled darkly at Heeyeon’s last words to her because **when** was she **ever** hard on Yongsun? It was one of Wheein and Hyejin’s favorite running jokes—trying to find things that Byulyi would get upset and **stay upset** at Yongsun over. They’d yet to land on one.

“Hey,” Yongsun greeted warily after two gentle raps against the bedroom door. “I left the food in the kitchen for you. Heeyeon already took hers.” With Byulyi sifting through her closet, the older woman’s words were spoken into a void. “Can we talk, please?” She timidly asked. Very rarely did Yongsun speak as hesitantly as she was now, an indication, Byulyi thought, that she knew the events earlier left a sour taste in the athlete’s mouth.

But she was here. Attempting to work through this. That was better than nothing.

Fingers paused against the felt-like fabric of a forgotten navy blue peacoat, Byulyi inhaled and exhaled deeply, finding odd comfort in the way the action tickled her nostrils. Turning to finally face Yongsun, Byulyi took time to study her—yet to cross the room’s threshold, looking as cute as ever in her hunter green sweatpants and baggy cropped tan sweater. Awaiting permission to enter, it seemed. Silently gesturing with her hands for Yongsun to come in, the graduate student did just that. Looking as if she were afraid Byulyi would change her mind about that any moment now, the blonde scurried in, making sure to gently close the door behind her.

Back muscles digging into the closed door and arms folded across her chest, Byulyi remained quiet, waiting for Yongsun to situate herself in the desk chair across the room, after which brown eyes locked with brown eyes. Accusation swimming in one pair, shame in the other, as a fog of tension gradually filled the room around them.

If something was going to be said, Yongsun would have to be the one to say it.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” To her credit, Yongsun maintained eye contact while speaking.

“Done what?” It wasn’t playing dumb, it was a deep desire revealing itself to make Yongsun work for this. To make her **say** outright what needed to be said. To address the elephant that lived in every room the two of them entered.

“Pulled my hand away. I’m sorry,” came the soft confession.

“You always are.” A deep sigh traveled from across the room as Byulyi looked away.

“And I always mean it. Look, I’m trying, Byulyi.”

A bitter laugh followed by a skeptical, “Are you?”

“Really? You’re upset right now, I understand that, but don’t dismiss my effort. That’s unfair.”

“Unfair? Don’t talk to me about unfair, Yongsun.” Byulyi scoffed.

“Yes, **unfair**,” the older woman spoke defiantly. “Being unhappy because we aren’t calling ourselves what you’d prefer we call ourselves is one thing. Implying that I’m giving **no **effort is something else entirely.”

“No, Yongsun, I’m not **unhappy **about labels right now.I’mdisappointed and **hurt** that **hand-holding**—in front of a guy you said was not an issue—was too much for you. After everything we’ve been through together, **especially** this past week, you couldn’t even do **that**. People hold hands all the time and it means nothing. He could’ve very well thought nothing of it, but you made it an issue.”

As Yongsun defended the idea that Jinyoung being a non-issue was the very reason she didn’t want to explain anything to him, Byulyi countered that if he were truly a non-issue, the graduate student wouldn’t have reacted the way she did in his presence. Their argument continued, each new word uttered, huffed, or shouted illuminating for the younger that this wasn’t a new conversation. It was a new day, a new “small thing” that forced them to address their precarious relationship, but it was the same roadblock the pair constantly attempted to creatively push through. And each had their reason for wanting what they wanted—Yongsun wanted time; Byulyi, something tangible sooner rather than later—but the rational reasoning each believed she held didn’t change the fact that their desires were at odds with each other. Their wants conflicted from the beginning and would continue to do so until something changed.

_If something was going to be said, Yongsun would have to be the one to say it._

The older woman did her part. Said what she felt she needed to say. But none of what Yongsun said indicated a change in the order of things. Thus, if something was going to change, Byulyi realized she had to be the one to change it.

“We’re hitting a wall, Yong,” she mumbled exasperatedly palms rubbing eyes. Yongsun was in the middle of speaking when Byulyi cut her off, but the words weighed heavy on her chest. Holding them in any longer wasn’t an option. A waterfall of consonants and vowels poured from her lips, forming words and sentences that couldn’t be stopped. “The same wall. Over and over. I thought it was something we could push through, but it’s brick. We can’t push through that. No matter how much we’d like to, no matter how often we try. Not right now, I don’t think.”

Byulyi watched as a bevy of emotions flitted across Yongsun’s face, one of which was understanding. She leaned back in the wooden chair with hands folded in her lap. “I think we both said a lot and I think there’s a lot more to be said. For now, I’m willing to go back to my apartment and hold your hand, that’s not a problem. I can do that for you. But if we’re going to continue this conversation, we should do it later before we say things we don’t mean.”

Later, a point in time that never came for them. Everything swept under the rug for ‘later’ remained there. Under the rug. Never acknowledged.

“It’s not about holding my hand, Yong! It’s about why it took all of this,” arms flailed about in frustration, “for you to be **willing **to consider it. It’s about why it took me being pissed off about a comment at dinner with my family on Friday for you to tell our best friends that you and I are more than just friends—something that **anyone **that sees us can tell. It’s about why it takes being backed into a corner for you to give a little when I am ready **at all times **to give you everything. And . . . I don’t know. Sometimes I can tell how you feel about me, but other times I can’t. And that stings because I think it’s pretty clear in everything I say and do that I love you. There’s no doubt there.”

A lot to dump on someone at once—including the first time **those** words were spoken out loud—but it was a lot of what plagued Byulyi in the months post-confession. Half steps forward only came after major conflict. Yongsun was always willing to soften her stance, something the younger woman **did** acknowledge and appreciate, but it shouldn’t have had to take all the pleading and fighting that it did to get to make the incremental progress they did.

This was supposed to be easy. **They** were supposed to be easy. On paper, in person, they passed all the eye tests. They fit in ways many longed for. And yet.

Heart still pounding, ears still ringing, it took time to come down from the sheer emotion released. She could **breathe**, though. Byulyi’s head was clearer, her heart lighter.

“So, what are you saying?” Yongsun brought her back to the present, a plug to Byulyi’s drain of thoughts. The voice that asked was even, no hint of hysteria. Who knows if Yongsun’s facial features told a different story. Moonbyul wasn’t looking. Bubble of confidence leaking suddenly, her tongue poked at the ridges of her cheek while her eyes landed on the scattered clothes piled on her bed. Looking anywhere except for Yongsun would do, otherwise, the chances of taking all her words back were high.

“I think we should take a break.”

“From?” An immediate call for clarity. Or maybe a challenge to actually **say** it the way Byulyi earlier challenged Yongsun. Either way, Byulyi held firm.

“Each other.” Her eyes touched everything in that bedroom except for Yongsun’s face but she felt the intensity of the graduate student’s glare boring into her own.

Seconds passed like molasses, each one tempting Byulyi more than the one before to do **something**. At least sixty of those excruciating seconds must have passed when her resolve crumbled and it was decided that she’d finally look Yongsun in her eyes and further explain the rationale behind the request for separation. Anything to hopefully dilute the tension suffocating her.

But Yongsun acted first.

“Okay.” Composed and calm.

That was it. The blonde didn’t let her words sit in the air for even a second before standing from her chair and making to exit. Byulyi stepped away from the door to grant Yongsun enough space to do so, all the while unfulfilled by the anticlimactic ending. Not that she **hoped** for a more volatile scene—Byulyi had no idea what she expected, she hadn’t even expected to say what she said—but the lack of emotion left her unsettled. Part of it was that their relationship was too heavy, too significant, to end as easily as it seemed it was ending. **Some** pushback was warranted, no? In the immediate, though, most of why she felt unsettled boiled down to this: Yongsun’s lack of emotion left Byulyi with too much emotion.

For hours after the older’s scent faded from the bedroom, Byulyi took up the same chair the older women earlier occupied and thought. Their thread of text message open, several iterations of an “I didn’t mean it, let’s meet for dinner later to figure this out” text were drafted, one coming close to being sent. Because the more Byulyi thought, the more it just didn’t make sense for them to end like **that**, and the guiltier she felt for being its genesis. She was the one that suggested the break, her words the ones that prompted this.

Yongsun, Byul speculated, either gave up as easily as she did because she didn’t care or because she found it futile to fight a decision that was already made, neither option doing much to reassure younger that she handled things properly or made the best decision.

No semblance of peace rescued her from the flames of guilt singeing her insides until much later that day, an hour before the Conference Championship game began. Going through the motions of greeting arena staff, teammates, and coaches, Byulyi was still mentally back in her bedroom, playing the conversation with Yongsun on a loop.

Sitting at her locker, she blocked out the frenetic energy typical of a pregame locker room as she always did—with her ‘gameday’ playlist blaring in her ears. A rap song that she intentionally added months ago because it made her think of Yongsun began playing. And, well, it served its purpose and made her think of Yongsun. Or, this time around, made her think about their breaku–, about their newly minted **break** and the conversation that led to it.

_“It’s about why it takes being backed into a corner for you to give a little when I am ready **at all times **to give you everything.”_

Scanning through all that they said to each other, it was that line that unexpectedly and instantly helped Byulyi feel at ease with the choices she made earlier because it was the truth. For the duration of their time as more than friends, Yongsun was adamant about **wanting** time to think things through. As it turned out, Byulyi finally realized and accepted, the graduate student didn’t **want** time, she **needed** time. And if there was one thing about Moon Byulyi, she was ready at all times to give Kim Yongsun everything. Especially the things she needed. This was no different.

Yongsun needed time.

Byulyi finally gave it to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many people left comments wondering how long Byulyi would wait. We finally got an answer to that—2 months (yes, from her confession to the events of this chapter, only 2 months have passed in the story [end of December to the first week of March]).
> 
> Fun fact: the “we should take a break” scene was one of the first I ever wrote for this story. Had no idea I’d be sitting on it for over a year.
> 
> Fun fact #2: I don't even care if only one person reads this chapter in part and dumps it, it feels so good to be back for now and have a new chapter posted. Can't even put it into words. I hope that you all have been doing well.


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